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The 
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filmii 


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first 

sion. 

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right 

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lUX 

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26  X 

■)0  V 

1 

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16X 

20X 

24  X 

28X 

32  X 

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d'imprassion  ou  d'illustration.  soit  par  ie  second 
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ampreinte. 

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at  da  haut  9n  bas.  en  prenant  le  nombre 
d'images  nAcessaira.  Las  diagrammas  suivants 
illustrant  la  mithoda. 


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II 


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THE 


CANADIAlf  ORUSOES. 


BT 


CATHARmE  PARR  TRAILL, 


W/T«i,  2,r  i^Jl  ijSTER.  AO^J^S  STJUCMluu^a. 


illuatrattfe  tg  ^itiua. 


BOSTON: 
CROSBY    AND    NICHOLS. 


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OHILDH«»    OF    ,H,    ,„„,,, 


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■T  »■■« 


WISRIB, 


THB   AUTHOBKig. 


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•      • 


# 


i:.  i 


PREFACE. 


It  will  be  acknowledged  that  human  Bym- 
pathy  irresistibly  responds  to  any  narrative, 
founded  on  truth,  which  graphically  describes 
the  struggles  of  isolated  human  beings  to  ob- 
tain the  aliments  of  life.    The  distinctions  of 
pride  and  rank  sink  into  nought  when  the  mind 
is  engaged  in  the  contemplation  of  the  inevi. 
table    consequences  of    the  assaults  of  the 
gaunt  enemies,  cold  and  hunger.     Accidental 
circumstances  have  usually  given  suflScient  ex- 
perience of  their  pangs,  even  to  the  most  for- 
tunate,  to  make  them  own  a  fellow-feeling 
with  those  whorr  the  chances  of  shipwreck, 
war,  wandering,  or  revolutions  have  cut  oflf 
from  home  and  hearth,  and  the  requisite  sup. 
plies;  not  only  from  the  thousand  artificial 
comforts  which  civilized  society  classes  among 
the  necessaries  of  life,  but  actually  from  a 
suSScieacy  of  ''  daily  bread." 


m  PREFACE.  ' 

Where  is  tlie  man,  woman,  or  child  who  has 
not  sympathized  with  the  poor  seaman  before 
the  mast,  Alexander  Selkirk,  typified  by  the 
genius  of  Defoe  as  his  inimitable  Crusoe,  whose 
name  (although  one  by  no  means  uncommon  in 
middle  life  in  the  east  of  England)  has  become 
synonymous  for  all  who  build  and  plant  in  a 
wilderness,  "  cut  off  from  humanity's  reach  i 
Oar  insular  situation  has  chiefly  drawn  the 
attention  of  the  inhabitants  of  Great  Britam  to 
casualties  by  sea,  and  the  deprivations  of  indi- 
viduals wrecked  on  some  desert  coast ;  but  it  is 
by  no  means  ger.rally  known  that  scarcely  a 
summer  passes  over  the  colonists  in  Canada, 
without  losses  of  children  from  the  families 
of  settlers  occurring  in  the  vast  forests  of  the 
backwoods,  similar  to  that  on  which  the  narra- 
tive  of  the  Canadian  Crusoes  is  founded.    Many 
persons  thus  lost  have  perished  in  the  wilder- 
ness;  and  it  is  to  impress  on  the  memory  the 
natural  resources  of  this  country,  by  the  aid 
of  interesting  the  imagination,  that  the  author 
-of  the  well-known  and  popular  work,  "  The 
Backwcods  of  Canada,"  has  writtf^n  the  follow- 


I 
4 


'i 

i 

1 


lag  pag 


.^=o- 


0  baa 
Defore 
y  the 
vliose 
ion  in 
ecome 
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rn  the 
tain  to 
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iTcely  a 
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families 

1  of  the 
;  narra- 

Many 
I  wilder- 
aory  the 
the  aid 
3  author 
■k,  "  The 
Le  foUow- 


PRKPACE.  0 

She  hris  drawn  attention,  in  th-  course  of 
this  volume,  to  the  practical  sr  luti-.u"*  of  that 
provoking  enigma,  which  seems  lo  perplex  all 
anxious  wanderers  in  an  unknown  land,  namely, 
that  finding  themselves,  at  the  end  of  a  day's 
toilsome  march,  close  to  the  spot  from  which 
they  set  out  in  the  morning,  and  that  this  cruel 
accident  will  occur  for  days  in  succession.     The 
escape  of  Captain  O'Brien  from  his  French 
prison  at  Verdun,  detailed  with  such  spirit  in 
his  lively  autobiography,  offers  remarkable  in- 
stances  of  this  propensity  of  the  forlorn  wanderer 
ia  a  strange  land.    A  corresponding  incident  is 
recorded  in  the  narrative  of  the  "  Escape  of  a 
young    French    Officer    from  the  ddpCt  near 
Peterborough,  during  the  Napoleon  European 
war."    He  founl  himself  thrice  at  night  within 
sight  of  the  walls  of  the  prison  from  which  he 
had  fled  in  the  morning,  after  taking  fruitless ' 
c-  ,alar  walks  of  twenty  miles.    I  do  not  recol- 
lect the  cause  of  such  lost  labour  being  explained 
in  either  narrative ;  perhaps  the  more  frequent 
occurrence  of  the  disaster  in  the  boundless  back- 

•  Sm  Appendix  A ;  UkowUe  o.  815, 


10 


PREFACE. 


r  '■ 


woods  of  the  Canadian  colonies,  forced  know* 
ledge,  dearly  bought,  on  the  perceptions  of  the 
settlers.  Persons  who  wander  without  knowing 
the  features  and  landmarks  of  a  country  in- 
stinctively turn  their  faces  to  the  sun,  and  for 
that  reason  always  travel  in  a  circle,  infallibly 
finding  themselves  at  night  in  the  very  spot 
from  which  they  started  in  the  morning. 

The  resources  and  natural  productions  of  the 
noble  colony  of  Canada  are  but  superficially 
known.  An  intimate  acquaintance  with  its 
rich  vegetable  and  animal  productions  is  most 
effectually  made  under  the  high  pressure  of 
difficulty  and  necessity.  Our  writer  has  striven 
to  interest  children,  or  rather  young  people 
approaching  the  age  of  adolescence,  in  the 
natural  history  of  this  country,  simply  by 
Bhowing  them  how  it  is  possible  for  children 
to  make  the  best  of  it  when  thrown  into  a  state 
of  destitution  as  forlorn  as  the  wanderers  on  the 
Bice  Lake  Plains.  Perhaps  those 'who  would 
not  care  for  the  berry,  the  root,  and  the  grain,  as 
delineated  and  classified  technically  in  books  of 
Bcience,  might  remember  their  uses  and  proper- 
tiei:  when  thus  brought  practically  before  their 


PREFACE.  11 

notice  as  the  aliments  of  the  famishing  fellow- 

creature,  with  whom  their  instinctive  feelings 

must  perforce  sympathize.     When  parents  who 

have  left  home  comforts  and  all  the  ties  of 

gentle  kindred  for  the  dear  sakes  of  their  rising 

families,  in   order  to   place   them   in   a  more 

independent  position,  it  is  well  if  those  young 

minds  are  prepared  with  some  knowledge  of 

what  they  are  to  fi^  :  in  the  adopted  country ; 

the  animals,  the  flowers,  the  fruits,  and  even  the 

minuter  blessings  which  a  bountiful  Creator  has 

poured  forth  over  that  wide  land. 

The  previous  work  of  my  sister,  Mrs.  Traill, 
"  The  Backwoods  of  Canada,  by  the  Wife  of  an 
Emigrant  Officer,"  published  some  years  since 
by  Mr.  C.  Knight,  in   his  Library  of  Useful 
Knowledge,  has  passed  through  many  editions, 
and  enjoyed  (anonymous  though  it  was)  too 
wide  a  popularity  as  a  standard  work  for  me  to 
need  to  dwell  on  it,  further  than  to  say  that 
the  present  is  written  in  the  same  naive,  charm- 
ing style,  with  the  same  modesty  and  uncom- 
plaining  spirit,  although  much  has  the  sweet 
and  gentle  author  endured,  as  every  English 
«adj  must  expect  to  do  who  ventures  to  en- 


12 


PREFACE. 


counter  the  lot  of  a  colonist.  She  has  now 
devoted  her  further  years  of  experience  as  a 
settler  to  the  information  of  the  younger  class  of 
colonists,  to  open  their  minds  and  interest  them 
in  the  productions  of  that  rising  country,  which 
will  one  day  prove  the  mightiest  adjunct  of  the 
island  empire ;  our  nearest,  our  soundest  colony, 
unstained  with  the  corruption  of  convict  popu» 
lation ;  where  families  of  gentle  blood  need  fear 
no  re^  disgrace  in  their  alliance ;  where  no  one 
need  beg,  and  where  any  one  may  dig  without 
being  ashamed. 


If^ 


THE 


CAJSTADIAJS-    CKUSOES. 


CHAPTER   I. 

♦•mie  morning  had  shot  hor  bright  Btreamers  on  high, 
O  V  Canada,  opening  all  ^   ;  i  to  the  sky; 
Still  dazzling  and  white  waa  the  robe  that  she  wore 
Except  whore  the  ocean  wave  lash'd  on  the  shore."' 

Jacobite  SoTiff, 

There  lies  between  the  Rice  Lake  and  the 
Ontario  a  deep  and  fertile  valley,  surrounded  by 
lofty  wood-crowned  hills,  the  heights  of  which 
were  clothed  chiefly  with  groves  of  oak  and 
pme,  though  the   sides  of  the  hills  and  the 
alluvial  bottoms  gave  a  variety  of  noble  timber , 
trees  of  various  kinds,  as  the  maple,  beech,  | 
hemlock,    and    others.      This    beautiful    and 
highly  picturesque  valley  is  watered  by  many 
clear  streams  of  pure   refreshing  water,  from 
whence  the   spot   has   derived   its  appropriate  ' 
appellation  of  "Cold  Springs."  "     * 


lA^  W<tA. 


14 


THE   CANADIAN  CRUSOES. 


At  the  time  my  little  history  commences,  thia 
,'  now  highly  cultivated  spot  was  an  unbroken 
A  wilderness, — all  but  two  small  farms,  where 
dwelt  the  only  occupiers  of  the  soil, — which 
owned  no  other  possessors  than  the  wandering 
hunting  tribes  of  wild  Indians,  to  whom  the 
right  of  the  hunting  grounds  north  of  Rice  Lake 
appertained,  according  to  their  forest  laws. 

To  those  who  travel  over  beaten  roads,  now 
partially  planted,  among  cultivated  fields  and 
flowery  orchards,  and  see   cleared   farms   and 
herds  of  cattle  and  flocks  of  sheep,  the  change 
would  be  a  striking  one.     I  speak  of  the  time 
"when  the  neat  and  flourishing  town  of  Cobourg, 
i      now  an  important  port  on  the  Ontario,  was  but 
I      a  village  in  embryo — if  it  contained  even  a  log- 
house  or  a  block-house  it  was   all  that  it  did, 

C  L^^<j^f'*  *^"^  ^^^®  ^^^^^  ^"^  picturesque  ground  upon 
^' '^  •  which  the  fast  increasing  village  of  Port  Hope 
p<V\^^«  is  situated,  had  not  yielded  one  forest  tree  to 
the  axe  of  the  settler.  No  gallant  vessel  spread 
her  sails  to  waft  the  abundant  produce  of  grai*^ 
and  Canadian  stores  along  the  waters  of  that 
noble  sheet  of  water ;  no  steamer  had  then 
furrowed  its  bosom  with  her  iron  wheels,  bear- 
ing the  stream  of  emigration  towards  the  wilds 
of  our  Northern  and  Western  forests,  there  to 
render  a  lonely  trackless  desert  a  fruitful  garden. 
What  will  not  time  and  the  industry  of  man, 


n 


THE    CANADIAN   CRUS0E3. 


15 


assisted  by  the  blessing  of  a  merciful  God, 
effect  ?  To  him  be  the  glorj  and  honour ;  for  we 
are  taught,  that  "  without  the  Lord  buiJd  the 
city,  their  labour  is  but  lost  that  build  it;  with- 
out the  Lord  keep  the  city,  the  watchman 
waketh  but  in  vain." 

But  to  my  tale.  And  first  it  will  be  necessary 
to  mtroduce  to  the  acquaintance  of  my  youncr 
readers  the  founders  of  our  little  settlement  a't 
Cold  Springs. 

Duncan   Maxwell  was    a   young    Highland 
soldier,  a   youth   of  eighteen,  at   the    famous 
battle  of  Quebec,  where,  though  only  a  private, 
he  received   the   praise  of  his  colonel  for  his 
brave   conduct.     At    the   close    of  the  battle 
Duncan  was  wounded,  and  as  the  hospital  was 
full  at  the  time  with  sick  and  disabled  men    he 
was  lodged   in    the    house  of  a   poor  French 
Canadian  widow  in  the  Quebec  suburb;  here 
though  a  foreigner  and  an  enemy,  he  received 
much  kind  attention  from  nis  excellent  hostess 
and  her  family,  which  consisted  of  a  youncr  man 
about  his  own  age,  and  a  pretty  black-eye°d  lass 
not  more  than  sixteen.     The  widow  Perron  was 
so  mucJi  occupied  with  otlier  lodgers—for  she 
kepta^ort  of  boarding-house-that  s!ie  had  not 
much  time  to  give  to  Duncan,  so  that  he  was 
left  a  great  deal  to  her  sou  Pierre,  and  a  little  to 
Catharine,  her  dauffhter. 


16 


THE   CANADIAN  CRUS0E9. 


Duncan  Maxwell  was  a  fine,  open-tempered, 
frank  lad,  and  he  soon  won  the  regard  of  Pierre 
and  his  little  sister.    In  spite  of  the  prejudices  of  ,, 
country,  and    the    difference  of  language  and 
national  customs,  a  steady  and  increasing  friend- 
ship  grew  up  between  the  young  Highlander  and 
the  children  of  his  hostess ;  therefore  it  was  not 
without  feelings  of  deep  regret  that  they  heard 
the  news,  that  the  corps  to  which  Duncan  be- 
longed  was  ordered  for  embarkation  to  England, 
and  Duncan  was  so  far  convalescent  as  to  be 
pronounced  quite  well   enough   to  join  them. 
Alas  for  poor  Catharine  I  she  now  found  that 
parting  with  her   patient  was  a  source  of  the 
deepest  sorrow  to  her  young  and  guileless  heart ; 
nor  was  Duncan  less  moved  at  the  separation 
from  his  gentle  nurse.     It  might  be  for  years, 
and  it  might   be  for  ever,  he   could  not  tell; 
but  he  could   not   tear  himself  away  without 
telHng  the  object  of  his  affections  how  dear  she 
was  to  him,  and  to  whisper  a  hope  that  he  might 
yet  return  one  day  to  claim  her  as  his  bride; 
and  Catharine,  weeping  and  blushing,  promised 
to  wait  for  that  happy  day,  or  to  remain  single 
for  his  sake,  while  Pierre  promised  to  watch  over 
his  friend's  interests  and  keep  alive  Catharine's 
love;  for,  said  he,  artlessly,  "  la  belle  Catrine  is 
pretty  and  lively,  and  may  have  many  suitors 
Vxofl-»ro  aliA  sftps  vou  again,  mon  ami. 


THE   CANADIAN  CRUSOES,  '        17 

They  say  the  course  of  true  love  never  did 
run  smooth ;  bi  t,  with  the  exception  of  this 
great  sorrow,  the  sorrow  of  separation,  the  lovo 
of  our  young  Highland  soldier  and  his  betrothed 
knew  no  other  interruption,  for  absence  served 
only  to  strengtlien  the  affection  which  was 
founded  on  gratitude  and  esteem. 

Two  long   years   passed,    however,  and  the 
prospect  of  reunion  was  yet  distant,  when  an 
accident,  which  disabled  Duncan  from  serving 
his   country,  enabled    him   to   retire  with  the 
usual  little   pension,  and  return  to  Quebec  to 
seek   his   affianced.     Some  changes  had  taken 
place   during    that  short    period:    the  widow 
Perron  was  dead;  Pierre,  the  gay,  lively-hearted 
Pierre,  was  married  to  the  daughter  of  a  lum- 
berer ;  and  Catharine,  who  had  no  relatives  in 
Quebec,  had    gone   up    the    country  with  her 
brother  and  his  wife,  and  was  living  in  some 
little  settlement  above  Montreal  with  them. 

Thither  Duncan,  with  the  constancy  of  his 
nature,  followed,  and  shortly  afterwards  was 
married  to  his  faithful  Catharine.  On  one 
point  they  had  never  differed,  both  beincr 
of  the  same  religion.  ° 

Pierre  had  seen  a  good  deal  of  the  fine 
country  on  tho  shores  of  the  Ontario;  he  had 
been  hunting  with  some  friendly  Indians  be- 
tween  the  great  waters  and  the  Rice  Laka  and 


18 


THE  CANADIAN  CRUSOES. 


he  now  thought  if  Duncan  and  himself  could 
make  up  their  minds  to  a  quiet  life  in  the 
woods,  there  was  not  a  better  spot  than  the  hill 
pass  between  the  plains  and  the  big  lake  to  fix 
themselves  upon.  Duncan  was  of  the  same 
opinion  when  he  saw  the  spot.  It  was  not 
rugged  and  bare  like  his  own  Highlands,  but 
softer  in  character,  yet  his  heart  yearned  for 
the  hill  country.  In  those  days  there  was  no 
obstacle  to  taking  possession  of  any  tract  of 
land  in  the  unsurveyed  forests,  therefore  Duncan 
agreed  with  his  brother-in-law  to  pioneer  the 
way  with  him,  get  a  dwelling  put  up  and  some 
ground  prepared  and  "seeded  down,"  and  then 
to  return  for  their  wives  and  settle  themselves 
down  at  once  as  farmers.  Others  had  suc- 
ceeded, had  formed  little  colonies,  and  become 
the  heads  of  villages  in  due  time  ;  why  should 
not  they?  And  now  behold  our  two  back- 
woodsmen fairly  commencing  their  arduous  life ; 
but  it  was  nothing,  after  all,  to  Pierre,  by 
previous  occupation  a  hardy  lumberer,  or  the 
Scottish  soldier,  accustomed  to  brave  all  sorts 
of  hardships  in  a  wild  country,  hipiself  a  moun- 
taineer, inured  to  a  stormy  climate  and  scanty 
fare  from  his  earliest  youth.  But  it  is  not  my 
intention  to  dwell  upon  the  trials  and  difficulties 
courageously  met  and  battled  with  by  our  set 
tiers  and  their  young  wives. 


THE   CANADIAN  CRUSOES, 


Id 


There  was  in  those  days  a  spirit  of  resistance 
among  the  first  settlers  on  the  soil,  a  spirit  to  do 
and  bear,  that  is  less  commonly  met  with  now 
The  spirit  of  civilization  is  now  so  widely  dif- 
fused, that  her  comforts  are  felt  even  in  the 
depths  of  the  forest,  so  that  the  newly-come  emi- 
grant  feels  comparatively  few  of  the  physical 
evils  that  were  endured  by  the  older  inhabitants. 
The  first  seed- wheat  that  was  cast  into  the 
ground    by  Duncan  and  Pierre,  was  brought 
with  infinite  trouble  a  distance  of  fifty  miles  in 
a  little  skiff,  navigated  along  the  shores  of  the 
Ontario  by  the  adventurous  Pierre,  and  from 
the   nearest  landing-place   transported   on   the 
shoulders  of  himself  and  Duncan  to  their  home- 
stead :    a  day  of  great  labour  but  great  joy  it 
was  when  they  deposited  their  precious  freight 
in  safety   on    the   shanty   floor.      They   were 
obliged  to  make  two  journeys  for  the  contents 
of  the  little  craft.     What  toil,  what  privation 
they  endured  for  the  first  two  years!  and  now 
the  fruits  of  it  began  slowly  to  appear.      No 
two  creatures  could  be  more  unlike  than  Pierre 
and  Duncan.     The  Highlander,  stern,  steady, 
persevering,  cautious,  always  giving  ample  rea- 
eons  for  his  doing  or  his  not  doing.    The  Cana- 
dian, hopeful,  lively,  fertile  in  expedients,  and 
gay  as  a  lark ;  if  one  scheme  failed  another  was 
sure  to  present  itself.    Pierre  and  Duncan  were 


l! 


20 


THE  CANADIAN   CRUSOES. 


admirablj  suited  to  be  friends  and  neighbours. 
The  steady  perseverance  of  the  Scot  helped  to 
temper  the  voLat'le  temperament  of  tlie  French- 
man. They  generally  contrived  to  compass  the 
same  end  by  different  means,  as  two  streams  de- 
scending from  opposite  hills  will  meet  in  one 
broad  river  in  the  same  valley. 

Years  passed  on  ;  the  farm,  carefully  cultiva- 
ted, began  to  yield  its  increase,  and  food  and 
warm  clothing  were  not  wanted  in  the  home- 
steads.  Catharine  had  become,  in  course  of  time, 
the  happy  mother  of  four  healthy  children  ;  her 
sister-in-law  had  even  exceeded  her  in  these 
welcome  contributions  to  the  population  of  a 
new  colony. 

Between  the  children  of  Pierre  and  Catharine 
the  most  charming  harmony  prevailed ;  they 
grew  up  as  one  family,  a  pattern  of  affection  and 
early  friendship.  Though  different  in  tempers 
and  dispositions.  Hector  Maxwell,  the  eldest  son 
of  the  Scottish  soldier,  and  his  cousin,  jouncf 
Louis  Perron,  were  reatly  attached  ;  they,  with 
the  young  Catharine  and  Mathilde,  formed  a  little 
coterie  of  inseparables;  their  amusements,  tastes, 
pursuits,  occupations,  all  blended  and  harmo- 
nized delightfully;  there  were  none  of  those 
little  envyings  and  bickerings  a!nong  them 
that  pave  the  way  to  strife  and  disunion  in  after 
life. 


THE   CAi-ADIA.V  CRBSOEa  JJ 

Catharine  Maxwell  and  her  cousin  Louis  ;vere 
mo  e  i,ke  brother  and  sister  than  Hector  and 
Ca  ,an„e  but  Mathilde  was  gentle  anddove' 
if'  ""'•  f'™«-'J  a  contrast  to  the  sravitv  of 

W '  „d  I ''''"'''  "'.^--^  -"»  S^e 

iiector  and  Louis  were  fourteen-stron?  vV. 

orous,  .ndnstrious,  and  l,ard^,  both  in  etsl 

twelve.     It  ,3  not  with  Mathilde  that  rn-  stow 

rne.      Wnh   the  gayety  and  naivet.3  of  the 
Irenchwoman,  Catharine  possessed,  whe" 

r  w"f  '.'  "'"  "■="<">.  «  ""-"ghtful  anS  wdl 
r  gulated  m.nd,  abilities  which  w°ouW  well  have 
repa  d  the  care  of  mental  cultivation;  but  of 
book-learning  she  knew  nothing  beyond  a  littb 

ment  which  he  had  gained  when  in  the  arm v 
havmg  been  taught  by  his  colonel's  son,  a75 
of  twelve  year«  of  age,  who  had  taken  a  treat 
fancy  to  h.m,  and  had  at  parting  given  h!L  a 
fevv  of  h,3  school-books,  among^Uch  w^a 
Testament,  wthout  cover  or  title-page.    At  parT 
na   the  young   gentleman    recommended  its 
«y  perusal  to  Duncan.    Had  the  gift  been! 
Bible,   perhaps  the  soldier's  obedience  to  his 
pnest  m,ght  have  rendered  it  a  dead  letter  to 
km.,  but  as  >t  fortunately  happened.  h«  w-  «t 


•II 


•2 


THE   CANADIAN   CRUS0E3. 


conscious  of  any  prohibition  to  deter  him  from 
becom\>''  t  acquainted  with  the  truths  of  the  Gos- 
pel.    He  communicated  the  power  of  perusing 
his  books  to  his  children  Ilector  and  Catharine, 
Duncan  and  Kenneth,  in  succession,  with  a  feel- 
ing of  intense  reverence;  even  the  labour  of 
teaching  was  regarded  as  a  holy  duty  in  itself, 
and  was  not  undertaken  without  deeply  i  mpress- 
ing  the  obligation  he  was  conferring  upon  thoin 
whenever  they  were  brought  to  the  task.     It 
was  indeed  a  precious  boon,  and  the  children 
learned  to  consider  it  as  the  pearl  beyond  all 
price  in  the  trials  that  awaitec'.  them  in  their 
eventful  career.     To  her  knowledge  of  religious 
truths  young  Catharine  added  an  intimate  ac- 
quaintanc  0  with  the  songs  and  legends  of  her 
father's   romantic  country,   which  was  to  her 
even  as  fairyland.     Often  would  her  plaintive 
ballads  and  old  tales,  related  in  the  hut  or  the 
wigwam  to  her  attentive  auditors,  wile,  away 
heavy  thoughts.     Louis  and  Mathilde,  her  cou- 
sins, sometimes  wondered  how  Catharine  had 
acquied  such  a  store  of  ballads  and  wild  tales 
as  she  could  tell. 

It  was  a  lovely  sunnj  day  in  the  flowery 
month  of  June;  Canada  ^l•.ci  not  only  c^off-d 
that  "dazzling  white  i.^  .nt^^.ioned  in  the 
songs  of  her  Jacobite  emigrants,  but  had  as- 
turned  the  beauties  of  her  loveliest  season,  the 


Jdef: 


'•^ 


him  from 
)f  tho  Gos- 
f  perusing 
Catharine, 
nth  tt  feel- 
labour  of 
f  in  itself, 
ly  i  mpress- 
apon  thoin 
J  task.     It 
e  children 
beyond  all 
tn  in  their 
Df  religious 
itimate  ac- 
ids of  her 
vas  to  her 
r  plaintive 

hut  or  the 
wile,  away 
le,  her  cou- 
harine  had 
I  wild  tales 

,he  flowery 
)nly  c'cfiVd 
ned  in  the 
)ut  had  as* 
season,  the 


% 


THE   CANADIAN    rRUSOES. 

last  week  in  May  and  tho  first  three  of  June 
being  parallel  to  the  En-.ish  May,  full  of  bad.«« 
and  flowers  and  fair  promise  of  ripening  fruits. 
The  high  sloping  hills  surrounding  the  fertile 
vale  of  Cold   Springs  were  clothed  with  the 
blossoms  of  the  gorgeous  scarlet  enchroma,  or 
painted  cup ;  the  large  pure  white  blossoms  of 
the  lily-Iike  trillium;  the  delicate  and   fragile 
lilac  geranium,  whose  graceful  flowers  woo  the 
hand  of  the  flower-gatherer  only  to  fade  aim  jst 
within  his  grasp;  the  golden  cyprepedium,  or 
mocassin  flower,  so  singular,  so  lovely  in  its 
colour  and  formation,  waved  heavily  its  yellow- 
blossoms  as  the  breeze  shook  the  stems;  and 
there,  mingling  with  a  thousand  various  floral 
beauties,  the   azure  lupine  claimed  its  place, 
shedding  almost  a  heavenly  tint  upon  the  earth! 
Thousands  of  roses  were  blooming  on  the  more 
level  ground,  sending  forth  their  rich  fragrance, 
mixed  with  the  delicate  scent  of  the  feathery 
ceanothus,  (New  Jersey  tea.)    The  vivid  green- 
ness  of  the  young  leaves  of  the  forest,  the  tender 
tmt  of  the  springing  corn,  were  contrasted  with 
the  deep  dark  fringe  of  waiving  pines  on  the 
hills,  and  the  yet  darker  shade  of  the  spruce 
and  balsams  on  tho  borders  of  the  creeks,  for  so 
our  Canadian  forest  rills  are  universally  termed 
The  bright  glancing  wings  of  the  summer  red^ 
bird,  the  crimson-headed  woodoeeker.  thfl  crc^ 


i'i 


24 


THE   CANADIAN   CRUSOES. 


blue-bird,  and  noisy  but  splendid  plumed  jay, 
might  be  seen  among  the  branches ;  the  air  was 
filled  with  beauteous  sights  and  soft  murmuring 
melodies.  Under  the  shade  of  the  luxuriant 
hop-vines,  that  covered  the  rustic  porch  in  front 
of  the  little  dwelling,  the  light  step  of  Catharine 
Maxwell  might  be  heard  mixed  with  the  drowsy 
whirring  of  the  big  wheel,  as  she  passed  to  and 
fro  guiding  the  thread  of  yarn  in  its  course:  and 
now  she  sang  snatches  of  old  mountain  songs, 
such  as  she  had  learned  from  her  father ;  and 
now,  with  livelier  air,  hummed  some  gay  French 
tune  to  the  household  melody  of  her  spinning 
wheel,  as  she  advanced  and  retreated  with  her 
thread,  unconscious  of  the  laughing  black  eye 
that  was  watching  her  movements  from  among 
the  embowering  foliage  that  shielded  her  from 
the  morning  sun. 

"Come,  ma  belle  cousine,"  for  so  Louis 
delighted  to  call  her.  "  Hector  and  I  are 
waiting  for  you  to  go  with  us  to  the  *  Beaver 
Meadow.'  The  cattle  have  strayed,  and  we 
think  we  shall  find  them  there.  The  day  ia 
delicious,  the  very  flowers*  look  as  if  they 
wanted  to  be  admired  and  plucked,  and  we 
shall  find  eaiiy  strawberries  on  the  old  Indian 
clearing." 

Catharine  cast  a  longing  look  abroad,  but 
said,  *'  I  fear,  Louis,  I  cannot  go  to-day,  for  see, 


limed  jay, 
■he  air  was 
mrmuring 
luxuriant 
)h  in  front 
Catharine 
he  drowsy 
sed  to  and 
mrse:  and 
;ain  songs, 
ther ;  and 
ay  French 
'  spinning 
I  with  her 
black  eye 
)m  among 
I  her  from 


THE   CANADIAN  CRUSOES. 


26 


so 
nd 


Louis 
I   are 
3  '  Beaver 

I,  and  we 
lie  day  is 
s  if  they 
I,  and  we 
Id  Indian 


iroad,  but 
y,  for  see, 


I  have  all  these  rolls  of  wool  to  spin  up,  and 
my  yarn  to  wind  off  the  reel  and  twist ;'  and 
then,  my  mother  is  away." 

"  Yes,   I    left    her  with    mamma,"  replied 
Louis,   "and  she  said    she  would  be    home 
shortly,  so  her  absence  need  not  stay  you.    She 
said  you  could  take  a  basket  and  try  and  bring 
home  some  berries  for  sick  Louise.     Hector  is 
sure  he  knows  a  spot  where  we  shall  get  some 
fine  ones,  ripe  and  red."    As  he  spoke  Louis 
whisked  away  the  big  wheel  to  one  end  of  the 
porch,  gathered  up  the  hanks  of  yarn  and  tossed 
them  into  the  open  wicker  basket,  and  the  next 
minute  the  large,  coarse,  flapped  straw  hat  that 
hung  upon  the  peg  in  the  porch,  was  stuck,  not 
very  gracefully,  on  the  top  of  Catharine's  head 
and  tied  beneath  her  chin,  with  a  merry  rattling 
laugh,   which   drowned   effectually  the    small 
lecture  that  Catharine  began  to  utter,  by  way  of 
reproving  the  light-hearted  boy. 
"  But  where  is  Mathilde  ?" 
''  Sitting  like  a  dear  good  girl,  as  she  is,  with 
sick  Louise's  head  on  her  lap,  and  would  not 
disturb  the  poor  sick  thing  for  all  the  fruit  and 
flowers  in  Canada.     Marie  cried  sadly  to  go 
with  us,  but  I  promised  her  and  petite  Louise 
lots  of  flowers  and  berries  if  we  get  them,  and 
the  dear  children  were  as  happy  as  queens  when 
ic;i.  laem. " 


% 


26 


THE   CANADIAN   CRUSOES. 


"  But  stay,  cousin,  you  are  sure  my  mother 
gave  her  consent  to  my  going  ?  We  shall  be 
away  chief  part  of  the  day.  You  know  it  is  a 
long  walk  to  the  Beaver  Meadow  and  back 
again,"  said  Catharine,  hesitating  as  Louis  took 
her  hand  to  lead  her  out  from  the  porch. 

"Yes,  yes,  ma  belle,"  said  the  giddy  boy," 
quickly ;  "so  come  along,  for  Hector  is  waiting 
at  the  barn ;  but  stay,  we  shall  be  hungry  be- 
fore we  return,  so  let  us  have  some  cakes  and 
butter,  and  do  not  forget  a  tin-oup  for  watr  r  " 

Nothing  doubting,  Catharine,  with  buoyant 
spirits,  set  about  her  little  preparations,  which 
were  soon  completed ;  but  just  as  she  was  leaving 
the  little  garden  enclosure,  she  ran  back  to  kiss 
Kenneth  and  Duncan,  her  young  brothers.  In 
the  farm-yard  she  found  Hector  with  his  axe  on 
his  shoulder.  "  What  are  you  taking  the  axe 
for,  Hector  ?  you  will  find  it  heavy  to  carry," 
said  his  sister. 

"  In  the  first  place,  I  have  to  cut  a  stick  of 
blue-beech  to  make  a  broom  for  sweeping  the 
house,  sister  of  mine ;  and  that  is  for  your  use, 
•  Miss  Kate ;  and  in  the  next  place,  I  have  to  find, 
if  possible,  a  piece  of  rock  elm  or  hickory  for 
axe  handles ;  so  now  you  have  the  reason  why 
I  take  the  axe  with  me." 

The  children  now  left  the  clearing,  and  struck 
into  one  of  the  deeu  defiles  that  lay  between 


■! 


my  mother 
t^e  shall  be 
:now  it  is  a 

and  back 
Louis  took 
Tch. 

^iddy  boy,' 
r  is  waiting 
hungry  be- 

cakes  and 
>r  watc  i' " 
th  buoyant 
ions,  -which 
jvas  leaving 
)ack  to  kiss 
others.  In 
L  his  axe  on 
ng  the  axe 
r  to  carry," 

a  stick  of 
reeping  the 
>r  your  use, 
lave  to  find, 
hickory  for 
reason  why 

:,  and  struck 
av  between 


THE  CANADIAN  CRUSOES. 


27 


tlie  hilJg,  and  cheerfully  they  laughed  and  sung 
and  chattered,  as  they  sped  on  their  pleasant 
path ;  nor  were  they  loth  to  exchange  the  glow- 

27"  wT  ^"l  '^'  ''^''  ^^°°°^  «f  *b«  forest 
I     shade     What  handf^als  of  flowers  of  all  hues 

red  blue,  yellow,  and  white,  were  gathered  onl^ 
to  be  gazed  at,  carried  for  a  while,  then  cast 
as.de  for  others  fresher  and  fairer.  'And  not 
they  came  to  cool  rills  that  flowed,  softly  mur 
muring,  among  mossy  limestone,  or  blocks  of 
red  or  grey  granite,  wending  their  way  beneath 
twisted    roots    and    fallen    trees;    and    Zu 
Catharine  lingered  to  watch  the    ddying  dim 
pies  of  the  clear  water,  to  note  the  tiny  bri^ 
fragments  of  quartz  or  crystallized  limestone 
that  formed   a   shining  pavement  below  the 
^rea, ;  and  often  she  paused  to  watch  thelnl 
movements  of  the  red  squirrel,  as,  with  feathf? 
tail  erect   and  sharp  scolding  note,  he  crossed 
their  woodland  path,  and  swiftly  da  ting  uHhe 
rugged  bark  of  some  neighbouring  pi„e   o 
hemlock,  bade  the  intruders  on  his  qfierhaun J 
defiance;  yet  so  bold  in  his  indignation    he 
scarcely  condescended  to  ascend  4ond  ^.el 

--^  ^-rt..uiio,  ..nK-mg  ins  wings  upon  his  bi^as* 


! 


28 


THE   CANADIAN   CRUSOES. 


to  WOO  his  gentle  mate,  and  the  soft  whispering 
note  of  the  little  tree-creeper,  as  it  flitted  from 
one  hemlock  to  another,  collecting  its  food 
between  the  fissures  of  the  bark,  were  among 
the  few  sounds  that  broke  the  noontide  stillness 
of  the  woods ;  but  to  all  such  sights  and  sounds 
the  lively  Catharine  and  her  cousin  were  not 
indiiferent.  And  often  they  wondered  that 
Hec'or  gravely  pursued  his  onward  way,  and 
seldom  lingered  as  they  did  to  mark  the  bright 
colours  of  the  flowers,  or  the  bright  sparkling  of 
the  forest  rill. 

"  What  makes  Hec  so  grave  ?"  said  Catharine 
to  her  companion,  as  they  seated  themselvs 
upon  a  mossy  trunk,  to  await  his  commg  up, 
for  they  had  giddily  chased  each  other  till  they 
had  far  outrun  him. 

"Hector,  sweet  coz,  is  thinking  perhaps  of 
how  many  bushels  of  corn  or  wheat  this  land 
would  grow  if  cleared,  or  he  may  be  examining 
the  soil  or  the  trees,  or  is  looking  for  his  stick 
of  blue-beech  for  your  broom,  or  the  hickory  for 
his  axe  handle,  and  never  heeding  such  non- 
sense as  woodpeckers  and  squirrels,  and  lilies 
and  moss  and  ferns,  for  Hector  is  not  a  giddy 
thing  like  his  cousin  Louis,  or — " 

"His  sister  Kate,"  interrupted  Catharine, 
merrily;  "but  when  shall  we  come  to  the 
Beaver  Meadow '/" 


.i* 


1 


■  ^!L.,, 


t  whispering 
flitted  from 
ng  its  food 
were  among 
tide  stillness 
i  and  sounds 
in  were  not 
ndered  that 
■d  way,  and 
k  the  bright 
sparkling  of 

id  Catharine 

themselv  s 

coming  up, 

ber  till  thev 


e  examining 
br  his  stick 
)  hickory  for 
g  such  non- 
s,  and  lilies 
Qot  a  giddy 

Catharine, 
ome  to  the 


THE   CANADIAN-  CRUSOES.  29 

"Patience,  ma  belle,  all  in  good  time.  Hark 
Vas  not  that  the  ox- bell?  No;  Ilectoi' 
wh.thng."  And  soon  they  heard  the  hen." 
Btroke  of  h,s  axe  ringing  among  the  trees,  for  he 
hud  found  the  blue-beech,  and  was  cutting  it  to 
^eave  on  the  path,  that  he  might  take  it  home 
on  their  return;  he  had  also  marked  some 
h^kory  of  a  nice  size  for  his  axe  handles,  to 
bnng  home  at  some  future  time 

The  children  had  walked  several  miles,  and 
were  not  sorry  to  sit  down  and  rest  till  Hector 
joined  them.  He  was  well  pleased  with  his 
success,  and  declared  he  felt  no  fatigur  "A 
soon  as  we  reach  the  old  Indian  clearing 
we  shal  find  strawberries,"  he  said,  "and  ^ 
fresh  ^cdd  spring,  and  then  we  will  have  2 

''Come,  Hector,-come,  Louis,"  said  Catha- 
rme,  jumping  up,  "Ibng  to  be  gathering  the 
s  rawb^™ ;  and  see,  my  flowefs  are  ffdj 

shall  Ifm'r-  uT  '^'^'  ^^^  '^'  ^-«ke 
Bhal    be  filled  with  fresh  fruit  instead,  and  we 

must  not  forget  petite  Marie  and  sick  Louir 

or  dear  Mathilde.     Ah,  how  I  wish  she  w  Te 

ereattlnsnunutel     But  here  is  the  open i" 

to  tlie  Beaver  Meadow."  ° 

And  the  sunlight  was  seen  streaming  thron..], 

dteTrZ  :^1  -    they  app.oached    the 
•'«,  vniiuu  Bome  caij 


3* 


thQ  "Indian 


30 


THE   CAXADIAN   CRUSOES. 


clearing,"  but  is  now  more  generally  known  as 
the  little  Beaver  Meadow.  It  was  a  pleasant 
spot,  green,  and  surrounded  with  light  bowery 
trees  and  flowering  shrubs,  of  a  different  growth 
from  those  that  belong  to  the  dense  forest.  Here 
the  children  found,  on  the  hilly  ground  above, 
fine  ripe  strawberries,  the  earliest  they  had  seen 
that  year,  and  soon  all  weariness  was  forgotten 
while  pursuing  the  delightful  occupation  of 
gathering  the  tempting  fruit;  and  when  they 
had  refreshed  themselves,  and  filled  the  basket 
with  leaves  and  fruit,  they  slaked  their  thirst 
from  the  stream,  which  wound  its  way  among 
the  bushes.  Catharine  neglected  not  to  reach 
down  flowery  ^bunches  of  the  fragrant  white- 
thorn and  of  the  high-bush  cranberry,  then  ra- 
diant with  nodding  umbels  of  snowy  blossoms, 
or  to  wreathe  the  handle  of  the  little  basket  with 
the  graceful  trailing  runners  of  the  lovely  twin- 
flowered  plant,  the  Linnaea  borealie,  which  she 
always  said  reminded  her  of  the  twins,  Louise 
and  Marie,  her  little  cousins.  And  now  the 
day  began  to  wear  away,  for  they  had  lingered 
long  in  the  little  clearing.;  they  had  wandered 
from  the  path  by  which  they  entered  it ;  and 
had  neglected,  in  their  eagerness  to  look  for  the 
strawberries,  to  notice  any  particular  mark  by 
which  they  might  regain  it.  Just  when  they 
began  to  think  of  returning.  Louis  noticed  a 


I 
.1 


■I 


3. 

]j  known  as 
3  a  pleasant 
igbt  bowery 
jrent  growth 
forest.  Here 
ound  above, 
\iej  had  seen 
ras  forgotten 
cupation  of 

when  they 
i  the  basket 

their  thirst 
way  among 
not  to  reach 
^ant  white- 
irry,  then  ra- 
ry  blossoms, 
)  basket  with 
lovely  twin- 
B,  which  she 
(vins,  Louise 
nd  now  the 
bad  lingered 
id  wandered 
3red  it;  and 
look  for  the 
lar  mark  by 
t  when  they 
Lis  noticed  a 


THE   CANADIAN   CRUSOES. 


81 


beaten  path,  where  there  seemed  recent  prints  o. 
cattle  hoofs  on  a  soft  spongy  soil  beyond  the 
creek. 

"Come,  Hector,"  said  he  gayly,  "this  is 
lucky ;  we  are  on  the  cattle  path  ;  no  fear  hut 
It  will  lead  us  directly  home,  and  that  by  a 
nearer  track." 

Hector  was  undecided  about  following  it,  he 
fancied  it  bent  too  much  towards  the  setting  sun  ; 
but  his  cousin  overruled  his  objection.  "And 
is  not  this  our  own  creek?"  he  said;  I  "have 
often  heard  my  father  say  it  had  its  rise  some- 
where about  this  old  clearing." 

Hector  now  thought  Louis  might  be  right, 
and  they  boldly  followed  the  path  among  the 
poplars  and  thorns  and  bushes  that  clothed 
Its  banks,  surprised  to  see  how  open  the  ground 
became,  and  how  swift  and  clear  the  stream 
swept  onward. 

"Oh,  this,  dear  creek,"  cried  the  delighted 
Catharme,  "how  pretty  it  is  I  I  shall  often 
follow  Its  course  after  this ;  no  doubt  it  has  its 
source  from  our  own  Cold  Springs." 

And  so  they  cheerfully  purs°ued  their  way 
till  the  sun,  sinking  behind  the  range  of  westerly 
hills,  soon  left  them  in  gloom ;  but  they  anxiously 
hurried  forward  when  the  stream  wound  its  noisy 
way  among  steep  stony  banks,  clothed  scantily 
with  pines  and  a  few  scattered  silver-barked 


82 


THE   CANADIAN   CRUSOES. 


poplars.  And  now  they  became  bewildered  by 
two  paths  leading  in  opposite  directions ,  one 
upward  among  the  rocky  hills,  the  other  through 
the  opening  gorge  of  a  deep  ravine. 

Here,  overcome  with  fatigue,  Catharine  seated 
herself  on  a  large  block  of  granite,  near  a  great 
bushy  pine  that  grew  beside  the  path  by  the 
ravine,  unable   to  proceed ;  and  Hector,  with  a 
grave  and   troubled  countenance,  stood  beside 
her,  looking  round  with    an  air  of  great  per- 
plexity.   Louis,  seating  himself  at  Catharine's 
feet,  surveyed  the  deep   gloomy  valley  before 
them,  and  sighed  heavily.     The  conviction  had 
now  forcibly  struck  him  that  they  had  mistaken 
the   path    altogether.     The  very  aspect  of  the 
country  was  different ;  the  growth  of  the  trees, 
the  flow  of  the  stream,  all  indicated  a  change  of 
soil  and  scene.     Darkness  was  fast  drawing  its 
impenetrable  veil  around  them ;  a  few  stars  were 
stealing    out,    and   gleaming  down  as  if  with 
pitying  glance  upon  the  young  wanderers ;  but 
they  could  not  light  up  their  pathway,  or  point 
their  homeward  track.     The  only  sound,  save 
the  lulling  murmur  of  the  rippling  stream  below, 
was  the  plaintive   note  of  the  whip-poor-will 
from  a  gnarled  oak  that  grew  near  them,  and 
the  harsh,  grating   scream  of  the  night-hawk, 
darting  about  in  the  higher  regions  of  the  air, 
pursuing  its  noisy  companions,  or  swooping  down 


* 


wildered  by 
actions ,  one 
ihev  through 

arine  seated 
near  a  great 
)ath  by  the 
ictor,  with  a 
itood  beside 
f  great  per- 

Catharine'3 
iWey  before 
viction  had 
id  mistaken 
pect  of  the 
>f  the  trees, 
a  change  of 
drawing  its 
r  stars  were 

as  if  with 
ierers;  but 
ly,  or  point 
ound,  save 
earn  below, 
p-poor-will, 

them,  and 
ight-hawk, 
of  the  air, 
)ping  down 


f 


THE  CANADIAN   CRUSOES.  S$ 

wjth  that  peculiar  hollow  rushing  sound,  as  of  a 

person  blowing  into  some  empty  vessel,  when  it 

seizes  with  wide-extended  bill  its  insect  prey. 

Hector  was  the  firai  to    break   the  silence. 

tousm  Louis,  we  were  wrong  in  followino  tlie 

course  of  the  stream  ;  I  fear  we  shall  never  find 

our  way  back  to-night.'' 

Louis  made  no  reply ;  his  sad  and  subdued  air 
failed  not  to  attract  the  atten  'on  of  his  cousins 
W  by,  Louis,  how  is  this  i  you  are  not  used 
to  be  cast  down  by  difficulties,"  said  Hector,  as 
he  marked  something  like  tears  glistening  in 
the  dark  eyes  of  his  cousin. 

Louis's  heart  was  full,  he  did  not  reply,  but 
cast  a  troubled  glance  upon  the  weary  Catharine 
wh.-   leaned   heavily  against  the  tree  beneath 
which  she  sat. 

"It  is  not,"  resumed  Hector,  "that  I  mind 
passing  a  summer's  night  under  such  a  sky  as 
this,  and  with  such  a  dry  grassy  bed  below  me- 
but  I  do  not  think  it  is  good  for  Catharine  to 
sleep  on  the  bare  ground  in  the  night  dews  — 
and  then  they  will  be  so  anxious  at  home 
about  our  absence." 

Louis  burst  into  tears,  and  sobbed  out,~"And 
It  IS  all  my  doing  that  she  came  out  with  us- 
I  deceived  her,  and  my  aunt  will  be  angry  and 
much  alarmed,  for  she  did  not  know  of  her 
Komcr    at  all       'noq.r  n«*u— •_  _ 


I 


3-L 


I     m 


THE   CANADIAN   CRUaOES. 


I!   I  mil 


Hector,  pray  forgive  me  I  "  But  Catherine  was 
weeping  too  much  to  reply  to  his  passionate 
entreaties,  and  Hector,  who  never  swerved  from 
the  truth,  for  which  he  had  almost  a  stern  rev- 
erence, hardly  repressed  his  indignation  at  what 
ai)peared  to  him  a  most  culpable  act  of  deceit  on 
the  part  of  Louis. 

The  sight  of  her  cousin's  grief  and  self  abase- 
ment touched  the  tender  heart  of  Catharine,  for 
she  was  kind  and  dove-like  in  her  disposition, 
and  loved  Louis,  with  all  his  faults.     Had  it  not 
been  for  the  painful  consciousness  of  the  grief 
their  unusual  absence  would  occasion  at  home, 
Catharine  would  have  thought  nothing  of  their 
present  adventure ;  but  she  could  not  endure 
the  idea  of  her  high  principled  father  taxing 
her  with  deceiving  1';=^  kind,  indulgent  mother 
and  him.    It  was  this  humiliating  thought  which 
wounded  the  proud  heart  of  Hector,  causing 
him  to  upbraid  hh  cousin  in  somewhat  harsh 
terms  for  his  want  of  truthfulness,  and  steeled 
him  against  the  bitter  grief  that  wrung  the  heart 
of  the  penitent  Louis,   who,  leaning  his  wet 
cheek  on  the  .shoulder  of  the  kinder  Catharine, 
sobbed  as  if  his  heart  would  break,  heedless  of 
her  soothing  words  and  affectionate  endeavours 
to  console  him. 

"  Dear  Hector,"  she   said,  turning  her  soft, 
pleading  eyes  on  the  stern  face  of  her  brother 


ithnrine  was 

3  passionate 
k^erved  from 
a  stern  rev- 
;iou  at  what 
of  deceit  on 

1  self-abase- 
tharine,  for 
disposition, 
Had  it  not 
f  the  grief 
)n  at  home, 
ng  of  their 
lot  endure 
ber  taxing 
ent  mother 
light  which 
>r,  causing 
vhat  harsh 
nd  steeled 
?  the  heart 
5  his  wet 
Catharine, 
leedless  of 
ndeavours 

her  soft, 
r  brother 


THE   CANADIAN   CHL'SuKa. 


86 


jou  rmst  not  be  so  very  angry  with  poor 
Louis;  remember  it  was  to  please  me,  and  give 
me  the  enjoyment  of  a  day  of  liberty  with  you 
and  himself  in  the  woods,  among  the  flowers  and 
trees  and  birds,  that  he  committed  this  fault." 

"  Catharine,  Louis  spoke  an  untruth  and  a^'t- 
ed  deceitfully,  and  look  at  the  consequences  1- 
we  shall  have  forfeited  our  parents'  confidence, 
and  may  have  some  days  of  painful  privation  to 
endure  before  we  regain  our  home,  if  we  ever 
do  find  our  way  back  to  Cold  Springs,"  replied 
Hector. 

#         "  It  is  the  grief  and  anxiety  our  dear  parents 

y     T!u  '°.      '  *^^'   "^^'^''"  ^"^^^^'•^d   Catharine. 

that  distresses  my  mind ;  but,"  she  added  in 

more  cheerful  tones,    "let  us  not  despair;' no 

■      doubt  to-morrow  we  shall  be  able  to  retrace  our 

steps." 

^    With  the  young  there  is  ever  a  magical  spell 
m  that  little  word   io-morrow,~it  is  a  point 
which  they  pursue  as   fast  as  it  recedes  from 
^them.    Sad  indeed  is  the  young  heart  that  does 
not  look  forward  with  hope  to  the  morrow  I 
The  cloud  still  hung  on  Hector's  brow,  till 
•Catharine  gayly  exclaimed,    "Come,  Hector  I 
•  come,  Loms  I  we  must  not  stand  idling  thus  • 
we  must  think  of  providing  some  shelter  for  the 
night;   It  IS  not  good  to  rest  upon  the  bare 
e      -^  — ^..^^  ^  ^iic  uignc  aews.     aee,  here 


36 


THE   UAXADIA.V   CRUSOES. 


IS  a  nice  hut  half  made,"— pointing  to  a  large 
upturned  root,  which  some  iierce  whirlwind  had 
hurled  from  the  lofty  bank  into  the  goi-ge  of  the 
dark  glen. 

"Now  you  must  make  haste,  and  lop  off  a 
few  pine  boughs,  and  stick  theio  into  the  ground, 
or  even  lean  them  against  the  roots  of  this  old 
oak,  and  there,  you  see,  will  be  a  capital  house 
to  shelter  us.     To  work,  to  work,  you  idle  boys 
or  poor  wee  Katty  must  turn  squaw  and  build 
her  own  wigwam,     she  playfully  added,  taking 
up  the  axe  which  rested  against  the  feathery 
pme  beneath  which  Hector  was  leaning.     Now 
Catharine  cared  as   little  as   her  brother  and 
cousm  about  passing  a  warm  summer's  night 
under  the  shade  of  the  forest  trees,  for  she  was 
both   hardy   and  healthy;    but  her   woman's 
heart  taught  her  that  the  surest  means  of  recon- 
cihng  the  cousin  would  be  by  mutually  interest- 
mg  them  in  the  same  object— and  she  was  right. 
In  endeavouring  to  provide  for  the  comfort  of 
their  dear  companion,  all  angry  feelings  were 
forgotten  by  Hector,  whOe  active  employment 
chased  away  Louis's  melancholy. 

Unlike  the  tall,  straight,  naked  trunks  of  the 
pines  of  the  forest,  those  of  the  plains  are  adorn- 
ed  with  branches  often  to  the  very  ground,  va- 
rying  in  form  and  height,  and  often  presenting 
most  picturesque  groups,  or  risine  aindvamnno 


■I 


?  to  a  large 
lirlwind  had 
gorge  of  the 

id  lop  off  a 
the  ground, 
of  this  old 
ipital  house 
>u  idle  boys, 
r  and  build 
ded,  taking 
he  feathery 
ling.     Now 
rother  and 
ner's  night 
or  she  was 
^   woman's 
IS  of  recon* 
Ij  interest- 
5  was  right, 
comfort  of 
lings  were 
nplojment 

nks  of  the 
are  adorn- 
round,  va« 
presenting 

ylvamnno 


THE   CiUS-ADIAN   CRUSOKS. 


37 


scattered  groves  of  the  silver-barked  poplar  or 
graceful  birch-trees ;  the  dark,  mossv  greenness 
of  the  stately  pine  contrasting  finely  with  the 
light,  waving  foliage  of  its  slender,  graceful 
companions. 

Hector,   with   his  axe,  soon   lopped   boughs 
from  one  of  the  adjacent  pines,  which  Louis 
sharpened  with  his  knife,  and  with  Catharine's 
assistance   drove    into    the  ground,   arranging 
them  in  such  a  way  as  to  make  the  upturned 
oak,  with  its  roots  and  the  earth  which  adhered 
to  them,  form  the  back  part  of  the  hut,  which 
when  completed,  formed  by  no  means  a  contempt- 
ible shelter.     Catharine  then  cut  fern  and  deer- 
grass  with  Louis's  coukau-de.-chasse,  which    he 
always  carried  in  a  sheath  at  his  girdle,  and 
spread  two  beds,  one,  parted  off  by  dry  boughs 
and  bark,  for  herself,  in  the  interior  of  the  wig- 
wam,  and  one  for  her  brother  and  cousin  nearer 
the  entrance.    When  all  was  finished  to  her  satis- 
faction, she  called  the  two  boys,  and,  according 
to  the  custom  of  her  parents,  joined  them  in  the 
lifting  up  of  their  hands  as  an  evening  sacrifice 
of  praise  and  thanksgiving.    Nor  were  these 
fiimple-hearted  children  backward  in  implorin- 
help  and  protection  from  the  Most  Hicrh.     They 
earnestly  prayed    that   no  dangerous   creaiur 
might  come  near  to  molest  them   daring  the 
hours  of   darkness  and    helpiessnpr^,   no  evil 


*i»* 


88 


THE   CANADIAN  CRUSOES, 


spirit  visit  them,  no  unholy  or  wicked  thoughts 
intrude  into  their  minds;  but  that  hoi v  angels 
and  heavenly  thoughts  might  hover  over  them, 
and  fill  their  hearts  with  the  peace  of  God  which 
passeth  all  understanding.  And  the  prayer  of 
the  poor  wanderers  was  heard;  for  they  slept 
that  night  in  peace,  unharmed  in  the  vast  soli- 
tude.   So  passed  their  first  night  on  the  Plains. 


s. 

:ed  thoughts 
holj  angels 
r  over  them, 
f  God  which 
le  prajer  of 
r  thej  slept 
16  vast  soli- 
the  Plains. 


THE  CANADIAN  CRUS0E3. 


89 


CHAPTER   II. 

"  Fear  not,  ye  are  of  more  value  than  many  spanovw  » 

'pHE  sun  had  risen  in  all  the  splendour  of  a 

Canadian  summer  morning,  when  the  sleep. 

ers  arose  from  their  leafy  beds.    In  spite  of  the 

novelty  of  their  situation,  they  had  slept  as 

oundlj  and  tranquilly  as  if  they  had  been 
under  the  protecting  care  of  their  beloved  Da- 
rente,  on  their  little  palliasses  of  corn  straw;  but 
they  had  been  cared  for  by  Him  who  ne  ther 
slumbereth  nor  sleepeth,  and  they  waC  fu 
of  youthful  hope,  and  in  fulness  of  faith  in  ml 
mercy  into  whose  hands  they  had  commended 
th^^r  souls  and  bodies  before  they  retired  to 

While  the  children  slept  in  peace  and  safety 
what  terrors  had  filled  the  mind,  of  their  df^. 
tracted  parental  what  a  night  of  anguish  and 
sorrow  had  they  passed  1  °  ^ 

b  J^r  i^^'  ^f  °^"'^^  ^^  ^^*^°^t  bringin.. 
back  the  absent  children,  the  two  fathers,  li^.ht! 
og  torches  of  fat  pine,  went  forth  in  search  of 
the  wanderers.  How  often  did  thev  rais.  th.ir 
-oicas  m  hopes  their  loud  halloos  might're~ach 


«) 


THE   CANADIAN  CRUSOEa. 


the  hearing  of  the  lost  ones!     How  often  did 
they  check  their  hurried  steps  to  listen  for  soma 
replying  call  I    Bnt  the  sighing  breeze  in  the 
pine  tops,   or  sudden  rustling  of  the  leaves 
caused  by  the  flight  of  the  birds,  startled  by 
the  unusua)  glare  of  the  torches,  and  the  echoes 
of  their  own  voices,  were  the  only  sounds  that 
mat  their  anxious  ears.    At  daybreak  they  re- 
turned,  sad  and  dispirited,  to  their  homef  to 
snatch  a  morsel  of  food,  endeavour  to  cheer  the 

hurry  of^  takmg  different  directions.  Bu  ,  un- 
fortunately,  they  had  little  clue  to  the  ^uto 
which  Hector  and  Louis  had  taken,  ther^  bTng 
many  cattle  paths  through  the  wo^ds.    Louis'! 

M  he  had  lefi  no  intimation  of  the  path  he  nur 

posed  taking  when  he  quitted  his  nioSie'shoC 
he  had  merely  said  he  w»  going  with  Hector^ 

.Ton  of     I    'T'.'""'^  "°  ^'"'  "'  ^-  -t^" 
ton  of  asking  Catharine  to  accompany  them- 

he  had  but  told  his  sick  sister  that  he  wouU 
bring  home  strawberries  and  flowers,  and  that 
he  would  soon  return.  Alas,  poor  tioughtX 
Louis,  how  httle  did  you  think  of  the  web  o. 
woe  you  were  then  weaving  for  youi^elf,  and 
all  those  to  whom  you  and  your  giddy  eompan- 
ons  were  so  dear!  Childien,  think 'Iwiee.Te 
ve  deceive  once  I 


THE   CANADIAN  CRUSOES. 


n 


Catharine's  absence  would  have   been  quita 
unaccountable  but  for  the  testimony  of  Duncan 
and  Kenneth,  who   had   received   her  sisterly 
caresses  before  she  joined  Hector  at  the  barn  • 
and  much  her  mothei;  marvelled  what  could  huve 
induced  her  good,  dutiful  Catharine  to  have  left 
her  work  and  forsaken  her  household  duties  to 
go  rambhng  away  with  the  boys,  for  she  never 
left  the  house  when  her  mother  was  absent  from 
It  without  her  express  permission,  and  now  she 
was  gone— lost  to  them,  perhaps  for  ever.  There 
stood  the  wheel   she  had  been  turning,  there 
hung  the  untwisted  hanks  of  yarn,  her  morning 
task,— and  there  they  remained  week  after  week 
and  month  after  month,  untouched,  a  melan- 
choly  memorial   to  the  hearts  of  the  bereaved 
parents  of  their  beloved. 

It  were  indeed  a  fruitless  task  to  follow  the 
agonized  fathers  in  their  vain  search  for  their 
children,  or  to  paint  the  bitter  anguish  that  filled 
their  hearts  as  day  passed  after  day,  and  still  no 
tidings  of  the  lost  ones.  As  hope  faded,  a  deep 
and  settled  gloom  stole  over  the  sorrowinc. 
parents,  and  reigned  throughout  the  once  cheer" 
ful  and  gladsome  homes.  At  the  end  of  a  week 
the  only  idea  that  remained  was,  that  one  ol 
these  three  casualties  had  befallen  the  lost  chil- 

^ri'""^^? ^'   ^  ,^^"S^'^°g   ^eath   by  famine; 
and  horrible,  by  wolves  oi  bears; 


4* 


42. 


THE  CANADIAN  CHl-sOEg. 


or  yet  more  terrible,  with  tortures  bv  the  hand, 
of  the  dreaded  Indiana,  who  occasionall  heU 

about  the  Rice  lake,  which  was  known  onlv  bv 
tbe  elder  Perron  as  the  seene  of  many  bWdv 

ever  V  sited  hv  1 ""  """"""^  ^'''  ^"'''^^'r 

Sr^n  11  ^.     f  "'''■''''^=*^«Plyt''«J«l>ould 

ppesXlt^^id:tc-rS 
"fo^SnTtir'-^'-p-:: 

tha\'zr,;\:^tt:h::'r'^=^^^'^^ 

their  lost  children,  and  evrXladTne' 
»o  among  the  deep  glens  and  hiU  pals  of 
what  :s  now  commonly  called  the  PlaCfhev 
would  have  stood  little  chance  of  *s  overiZ 

tt-eT^T'^''^"-    ^^  "^y  days  of  & 
tigue  of  body  and  distress  of  mind  th/l 

"tLf;r,  "''^  -""^-•'eTtt  t:r: 

utterly  hopeless,  and  mourned  in  bitterne,,  ^ 
«pmt  over  the  disastrous  fate  of  their  fet  bo™ 

:"^atdtmtt:rr— "^"^ 

™  <=°°:-'orted,  because  they  were  not." 
"'^  «>«  lost  ones  was  an  aggravation  to  the 


THE   CANADIAN   CRUS0E3.  43 

sufferings  of  the  mx)urners :  could  they  but  have 
been  certified  of  the  manner  of  their  deaths  they 
rancied  they  should  be  more  contented ;'  but 
alas  I  this  fearful  satisfaction  was  withheld.       ' 

"Oh,  were  their  tale  of  sorrow  known, 
'Twere  sometliin^  to  the  breaking  heart 
The  pangs  of  tloubt  would  then  be  gone' 
And  fancy's  endless  dreams  depart."     ' 

But  let  us  quit  the  now  mournful  settlement  of 
the  Cold  Sprmgs,  and  see  how  it  really  fared 
with  the  young  wanderers. 

When  they  awoke,  the  valley  was  filled  with 
a  white  creamy  mist,  that  arose  from  the  bed  of 
the  stream,  (now  known  as  Cold  Creek)  and 
gave  an  indistinctness  to  the  whole  landscape 
investing  it  with  an  appearance  perfectly  dif! 
ferent  to  that  which  it  had  worn  by  the  bright 
clear  light  of  the  moon.    No  trace  of  their  foot' 
steps  remained  to  guide  them  in  retracing  their 
path;  so  hard  and  dry  was  the  stony  ground 
that  it  left  no  impression  on  its  surface.    It  was 
with  some  difficulty  they  found  the  creek  which 
was  concealed  from  sight  by  a  lofty  screen  of 
gigaLtic  hawthorns,  high-bush  cranberries,  pop- 
ars,  and  birch-trees.     The  hawthorn  was  in 
blossom,  and  gave  out  a  sweet  perfume,  not  less 
fragraLt  than  the  "  May"  which  makes  the  lane? 
and  hedgerows  of  "  merrie  old  England"  so 
Bw-cet  and  f^ir  in  May  and  June,  as  chanted  in 


44 


THE   CANADIAN   CRUSOES. 


many  a  genuine  pastoral  of  our  olden  time- 
but  when  our  simple  Catharine  drew  down  the 
flowery  branches  to  wreathe  about  her  hat,  she 
loved  the  ilowers  for  their  own  native  sweetness 
and  oeauty,  not  because  poets  had  sung  of  them  • 
-but  young  minds  have  a  natural  poetry  in 
themselves,  unfettered  by  rule  or  rhynie 

At  length  their  path  began  to  grow  more  dif- 
facult.    A  tangled  mass  of  cedars,  balsams,  birch, 
black  ash,  alders,  and  tamarack  (Indian  name 
for  the  larch,)  with  a  dense  thicket  of  bushes 
and  shrubs,  such  as  love  the  cool,  damp  soil  of 
marshy  ground,  warned  our  travellers  that  they 
must  quit  the  banks  of  the  friendly  stream,  or 
they  might   become   entangled   in  "a  trackless 
swamp     Having  taken  copious  and  refreshing 
drafts  from  the  bright  waters,  and  bathed  their 
hands  and  faces,  they  ascended  the  grassy  bank 
and  again  descending,  found  themselves  in  one 
of  those  long  valleys,  enclosed  between  lofty 
sloping  banks,  clothed  with  shrubs  and  oaks' 
with  here  and  there  a  stately  pine.     Through 
this  second  valley  they  pursued  their  way  till 
emerging  into  a  wider  space,  they  came  among 
those  singularly  picturesque  groups  of  rounded 
gravel  hills,  where  the  Cold  Cre<  k  once  more 
met  their  view,  winding  its  way  towards  a  grove 
of  evergreens,  where  it  was  again  lost  to  the  eye. 
Ihis  lovely  spot  is  now  known  as  SackviUeV-- 


f0 


;s. 

olden  time; 
ew  down  the 

her  hat,  she 
ve  sweetness 
mg  of  them; 
al  poetry  in 
ijme. 

)w  more  dif- 
Isams,  birch, 
Qdian  name 
it  of  bushes 
imp  soil  of 
rs  that  they 
'■  stream,  or 
a  trackless 
I  refreshing 
ithed  their 
-assy  bank, 
ves  in  one 
reen  lofty, 
and  oaks, 

Through 
r  way,  till 
ine  among 
f  rounded 
)nce  more 
ds  a  grove 
;o  the  eye. 
kokville's-" 


THE   CANAl>f    ^'   CRUSOES. 


46 


i 


-'?."' 

# 


Mill-dike.  The  hand  of  man  has  curbed  the 
free  course  of  the  wild  forest  stream,  and  made 
it  subservient  to  his  will,  but  could  not  destroy 
the  natural  beauties  of  the  scene.* 

Fearing  to  entangle  themselves  in  the  swamp, 
they  kept  the  hilly  ground,  winding  their  way 
up  to  the  summit  of  the  lofty  ridge  of  the  oak 
hills,  the  highest  ground  they  had  yet  attained ; 
and  here  it  was  that  the  silver  waters  of  the 
Eice  Lake  in  all  its  beauty  burst   upon   the 
eyes  of  the  wondering  and  delighted  travellers,     ^^^.r 
There  it   lay,   a   sheet  of   liquid    silver    just 
emerging  from  the  blue  veil  of  mist  that  hung 
upon  its  surface,  and  concealed  its  wooded  shores 
on  either  side.     All  feeling  of  dread  and  doubt 
and  danger  was  lost,  for  the  time,  in  one  rapturous 
glow  of  admiration  at  a  scene  so  unexpected    ■ 
and  so  beautiful  as  that  which  they  now  gazed    j 
upon  from  the  elevation  they  had  gained.    From     I     "^"-V 
this  ridge  they  looked  down  the  lake,  and  the 
eye  could  take  in  an  extent  of  many  miles,  with    j 
its  verdant  wooded  islands,  which  stole  into*  1 

♦  This  place  was  originally  owned  by  a  man  of  taste,  who 
resided  for  some  time  upon  the  spot,  till  finding  it  convenient 
to  retnrn  to  his  native  country,  the  saw-mill  passed  into  other 
hands.  The  old  log-house  on  the  green  bank  a\)ovo  the  mill- 
stream  is  still  standing,  though  deserted ;  the  garden-fence, 
Droken  and  dilapidated,  no  longer  protects  the  enclosure,  wherq 
\'hb  wild  rose  mingles  with  that  of  Provence,— the  Caaadiao 
^rsspsr  With  the  hop. 


/^uJ: 


*c^_ 


K. 


■«m: 


ie 


THE   CANADIAN  CRUSOES. 


I 


Jiew  one  by  one  as  the  raya  of  th„  „.,  • 
drew  up  the  movii,<.  curtl  .f  ,'"^  """ 

veloped  them  •  ,„  T        '"'^'  """  en- 

-u.L„  "h !«;  heir".- '~"'  "o^"'""  «"d 
«"  their  bays  and  !!,?  "'T""^  ^'^""^-  ^■''l' 
Pine-erown^d  h's       '^     °'"  ^"^"'"8  ^^  and 

-t^Vh^uarLtt-rcin^'^- 

no.  or  is  it  the  Eiee  L  ll?    ^       ""  *"  «"'»• 
be  those  of  the  ll.         ^an  yonder  shores 

Win,  tfteTr^Sn:^^^^^^^^ 

tor  remembered  havin..  often  1.7  Tl       ^'"= 

^y  that  the  Onurio  wa°s  tte  an  !f  ^  '^*^' 
the  opposite  shores  Tt  visible  '"f"'' .^<'"' ""^ 
remarkable  state  of  ,1,     ,  '*''''  '"  some 

had  been  oetsto  a„y  X^S?  tT'™  *^^ 
eye,  while  here  they  couM  ri  "  ^  "'"  ""'^^d 
on  the  other  side  ^hT„  """^  '""  °''J«'"3 

trees,  and  tven  flil^f  T'"""  S""°**  of  the 
their'  way'  ZZ't/J  aT  ',  '°1  "'"^^''-^ 

i'smargin.     The'bread™  f t     /afclfroT'^r" 
.  to  shore  could  not  thpv  ^u    "\^^^^^^om  shon 

or  four  miJes,.  Th  ,e  i  f  elllr^^"^  "'-' 
direction,  seemed  far  Breath!'  f  f'''"''^ 
eye  could  take  in*     ^  ^'^°'"^  "^"^  *' 


f  ^ 


M 


norning  sun 
ist  that  en- 
''thern  and 
isible,  with 
ag  oak  and 

^'here  are 
the  Onta- 
der  shores 
tJiey  the 
t5s?»  Hec 
hJs  father 
d  sea,  and 
I  in  some 
'hen  thej 
le  naked 
5e  objects 
h  of  the 
winging 
Jshes  OD 
>m  shon 
?d  three 
easterly 
hat  the 


iters  near 
iid  to  bo 
n»i  troir 


THE  CANADIAx\  CRUSOES.  47 

They  now  quitted  the  lofty  ridge,  and  bent 
their  steps  towards  the  lake.  Wearied  with 
their  walk,  they  seated  themselves  beneath  the 
shade  of  a  beautiful  feathery  pine,  on  a  high 

promontory  that  commanded  a  magnificent  view 
down  the  lake. 

"How  pleasant  it  would  be  to  have  a  house 
on  this  delightful  bank,  overlooking  the  lake  " 
said  Louis;  " only  think  of  the  fish  we  could 
take,  and  the  ducks  and  wild  fowl  we  could 
shoot  I  and  it  would  be  no  very  hard  matter  to 
hollow  out  a  log  canoe,  such  a  one  as  I  have 
heard  my  father  say  he  has  rowed  in  across 
many  a  ake  and  broad  river  below,  when  he 
was  Limbering." 

"Yes,  it  would,  indeed,  be  a  pleasant  spot  to 
^ve  upon,"*  said  Hector,  "though  I  am  not 
quite  sure  that  the  land  is  as  good  just  here 
as  It  IS  at  Cold  Springs;  but  all  these  flate  and 
rich  valleys  would  make  fine  pastures,  and  pro- 
duce  plenty  of  grain,  too,  if  cultivated." 

"You  always  look  to  the  main  chance,  Hec  » 
said  Louis,  laughing;  "well,  it  was  worth  'a 
few  hours'  walking  this  morning  to  look  upon 

prilinf  InM?'*"  ^f  "  P^^""^"'  cottage,  erected  by  an  enter- 


M 


;&»'•'" 


48 


THE  CANADIAN   CRUSOES. 


SO  lovely  a  sheet  of  water  as  this.  I  would 
spend  two  nights  in  a  wigwam,— would  not  you, 
ma  belle  ? — to  enjoy  such  a  sight." 

"Yes,  Louis,"  replied  his  cousin,  hesitating 
fes  she  spoke  ;  "  it  is  very  pretty,  and  I  did  not 
mind   sleeping  in  the  little   hut;   but  then  I 
cannot  enjoy  myself  as  much  as  I  should  have 
done  had  my  father  and  mother  been  aware  of 
my  intention  of  accompanying  you.     Ah,  my 
dear,  dear  parents  !"  she  added,  as  the  thought 
of  the  anguish  the  absence  of  her  companions 
and  herself  would  cause  at  home  came  over 
her.     "  How  I  wish  I  had  remained  at  home  I 
Selfish  Catharine!  foolish,  idle  girl  I" 

Poor  Louis  was  overwhelmed  with  grief  at 
the  sight  of  his  cousin's  tears,  and  as  the  kind- 
hearted  but  thoughtless  boy  bent  over  her  to 
soothe  and  console  her,  his  own  tears  fell  upon 
the  fair  locks  of  the  weeping  girl,  and  bedewed 
the  hand  he  held  between  his  own. 

"  If  you  cry  thus,  cousin,"  ho  whispered,  "  you 
will  break  poor  Louis's  heart,  already  sore  enough 
with  thinking  of  his  foolish  conduct." 

"Be  not  cast  down,  Catharine,"  said  her 
brother,  cheeringly ;  "  we  may  not-  be  so  far 
from  home  as  you  think.  As  soon  as  you  are 
rested  we  will  set  out  again,  and  we  may  find 
eomething  to  eat ;  there  must  be  strawberries  on 
^hese  sunny  banks." 


I  would 
not  jou, 

lesitating 
[  did  not 
t  then  I 
lid  have 
iware  of 
Ah,  my 
thought 
ipanions 
ne  over 
;  home  I 

gi-ief  at 
le  kind- 
•  her  to 
'11  upon 
)edewed 

i,  "you 
enough 

lid  her 
so  far 
S^ou  are 
ay  find 
rrics  oo 


THE   CANADIAN  CRUSOES. 


49 


Catharine  soon  yielded  to  the  voice  of  her 
brother,  and  drying  her  eyes,  proceeded  to  de- 
wend  the  sides  of  the  steep  valley  that  lay  to 
one  side  of  the  high  ground  where  they  had 
been  sitting. 

Suddenly  darting  down  the  bank,  she  ex- 
claimed,  "Come,  Hector;  come,  Louis;  here 
indeed  is  provision  to  keep  us  from  starving;" 
—for  her  eye  had  caught  the  bright  red  straw- 
berries among  the  flowers  and  herbage  on  the 
ilope ;  large,  ripe  strawberries— the  very  finest 
<he  had  ever  seen. 

"There  is  indeed,  ma   belle,"   said   Louis, 
^tooping  as  he  spoke  to  gather  up,  not  the  fruit, 
but  a  dozen  fresh  partridge  eggs  from  the  inner 
shade  of  a  thick  tuft  of  grass  and  herbs  that 
grew  beside  a  fallen  tree.     Catharine's  voice  and 
sudden  movementc  ^ad  startled  the  partridge* 
from  her  nc       md  .ae  eggs  were  soon  trans- 
ferred to  Louis's  straw  hat,  while  a  stone  flung 
by  the  steady  hand  of  Hector  stunned  the  pa- 
rent  bird.     The  boys  laughed  exultingly  as  they 
displayed  their  prizes  to  the  astonished  Oatha- 
rine,  who,  in  spite  of  hunger,  could  not  help  re- 
gretting ike  death  of  the  m^other  bird    Girls  and 
women  rarely  sympathize'  with  men    ...dboya 
in  their  field  sports,  and  Hector  laughed  at  his 

*Jhe  Canadian  partridge  is  a  species  of  ^rrouse.  laroer  ^*a 
ii3  iia^iiBii  or  trench  partridga. 


50 


THE   CANADIAJS"  CRUSOES. 


sister's  doleful  looks  as  he  handed  over  the 
bird  to  her. 

"  It  was  a  lucky  chance,"  said  he,  "  and  the 
stone  was  well  aimed,  but  it  is  not  the  first 
partridge  that  I  have  killed  in  this  way.  They 
are  so  stupid  you  may  even  run  them  down  at 
times ;  I  hope  to  get  another  before  the  day  is 
over.  Well,  there  is  no  fear  of  starving  to-day, 
at  all  events,"  he  added,  as  he  inspected  the  con- 
tenta  of  his  cousin's  hat ;  "  twelve  nice  fresh 
eggs,  a  bird,  and  plenty  of  fruit." 

"But  how  shall  we  cook  the  bird  and  the 
eggs?  We  have  no  means  of  getting  a  fire 
made,"  said  Catharine. 

"  As  to  the  eggs,"  said  Louis,  "  we  can  eat 
them  raw ;  it  is  not  for  hungry  wanderers  like 
us  to  be  over  nice  about  our  food." 

"They  would  satisfy  us  much  better  were 
they  boiled,  or  roasted  in  the  ashes,"  observed 
Hector. 

"  True.  Well,  a  fire,  I  think,  can  be  got  with 
a  little  trouble." 

"  But  how  ?"  asked  Hector. 

"Oh,  there  are  many  ways,  but  the  readiest 
would  be  a  flint  with  the  help  of  my  knife." 

"A  flint?" 

"  Yes,  if  we  could  get  one— but  I  see  nothing 
but  granite,  which  crumbles  and  shivers  when 
we  could  not  get  a  spark.    However, 


^ 


.«~. 1- 

OMUUiL 


THE  CANADIAN  ORUSOES. 


61 


the 


Mm 


I  think  it's  very  likely  that  one  of  the  round 
pebbles  I  see  on  the  beach  yonder  may  be  found 
hard  enough  for  the  purpose." 

To  the  shore  they  bent  their  steps  as  soon  as 
the  little  basket  had  been  well  filled  with  straw- 
berries, and  descending  the   precipitous  bank, 
fringed  with  young  saplings,  birch,  ash,  and 
poplars,  they  quickly  found  themselves  beside 
the  bright  v/aters  of  the  lake.     A  flint  was  soon 
found  among  the  water-w^rn  stones  that  lay 
thickly  strewn  upon  the  shore,  and  a  handful 
of  dry  sedge,  almost  as  inflammable  as  tinder, 
was  collected  without  trouble ;  though  Louis, 
with  the  recklessness  of  his  nature,  had  coolly 
proposed    to    tear  a   strip  from  his   cousin's 
apron  as  a  substitute  for  tinder,— a  proposal 
that  somewhat  raised    the  indignation  of  the 
tidy  Catharine,  whose  ideas  of  economy  and 
neatness  were  greatly  outraged,  especially  as 
she  had   no   sewing   implements   to  assist  in 
mendirg  the  rent.    Louis  thought  nothing  of 
that;  it  was  a  part  of  his  character  to  think 
only  of  the  present,  little  of  the  past,  and  to  let 
the  future  provide  for  itself.    Such  was  Louis's 
great  failing,  which  had  proved  a  fruitful  source 
of  trouble  both  to  himself  and  others.     In  this 
respect  he  bore  a  striking  contrast  to  his  more 
cautious  companion,  who  possessed  much  of  the 
gravity  of  his  father.    Hector  was  as  heedful 


62 


THE   CANADIAN  CRUSOES. 


1' 


and  steady  in  his  decisions  as  Louis  was  rash 
and  impetuous. 

After  many  futile  attempts,  and  some  skin 
knocked  off  their  knuckles  through  awkward 
handling  of  the  knife    and  flint,  a  good  fire 
was  at  last   kindled,  as  there  was  no  lack  of 
dry  wood  on  the  shore ;  Catharine  then  triumph- 
antly produced  her  tin  pot,  and  the  eggs  were 
boiled,  greatly  to  the  satisfaction  of  all  parties 
who  were   by   this  time  sufficiently  hungry 
having  eaten  nothing  since  the  previous  even^ 
ing  more  substantial  than  the  strawberries  they 
had  taken  during  the  time  they  were  gathering 
them  m  the  morning. 

Catharine  had  selected  a  pretty,  cool,  shady 
recess  a  natural  bower,  under  the  overhanging 
growth  of  cedars,   poplars,  and  birch,   which 
were  wreathed  together  by  the  flexile  branches 
ot  the  vine  and  bitter-sweet,  which  climbed  to 
a  height  of  fifteen  feet*  among  the  branches 
ot  the  trees,  which  it  covered  as  with  a  mantle 
A  pure  spring  of  cold,  delicious  water  welled 
out  from  beneath  the  twisted  roots  of  an  old 
hoary-barked  cedar,  and  found  its  way  among 
the  shingles  on  the  beach  to  the  lake,  a  humble 

«tSs^^  a  '  J   "^  ornamental.    It  possesses  powerful  prop. 


f 


m 


% 


THE   CANADIAN   CRUSOES.  53 

but  constant  tributary   to  its  waters.     Some 
large  blocks  of  vvater-worn  stone  formed  conve- 
nient seats  and  a  natural  table,  on  which  the 
little  mprden  arranged  the  forest  fare ;  and  nearer 
was  a  meal  made  wiw  greater  appetite  ur  taken 
with  more  thankfulness   than  that  which  our 
wanderers  ate  that  morning.     The  eggs  (part  of 
which  thej  reserved  for   another  time)  were 
declared  to  be  better  than  those  that  were  dailv 
produced  from  the   little   hen-house  at  Cold 
bprings.     The  strawberries  set  out  in  little  pot- 
t^r?  made  with  the  shining  leaves  of  the  oak 
smoubly  pinned  together  by  Catharine  with 
.ne  long  spurs  of  the  hawthorn,  were  voted 
delicious,  and  the  pure  water  most  refreshing 
that  they  drank,  for  lack  of  better  cups,  from  ' 
a  large  mussel-shell  which  Catharine  had  picked 
up  among  the  weeds  and  pebbles  on  the  beach 
Many  children  would  have  wandered  about 
weeping  and  dL^consolate,  lamenting  their  sad 
tate,  or  have  embittered  the  time  by  useless  re- 
pining or,  perhaps,  by  venting  their  uneasiness 
in  reviling  the  principal  author  of  their  calamit v 
-poor,  thoughtless  Louis;  but  such  were  not^ 
tlie  dispositions  of  our  young  Canadians.   Early 
accustomed  to  the  hardships  incidental  to  the 
lives  of  the  settlers  in  the  bush,  these  youno 
people  had  learned  to  bear  with  patience  and 
ehecr.umess  privations  that  would  have  crushed 


54 


THE   CAXADIAJ^  CRUSOES. 


the  spirit,  of  children  more  delicately  nurtured. 

Ihey  had  known  every  degree  of  hunger  and 
nakedness;  during  the  first  few  years  of  their 
hves  they  had  often  been  compelled  to  subsist 
tor  aays  and  weeks  upon  roots  and  herbs,  wild 
truits,  and  game  which  their  fathers  had  learned 

IndT^i'^.^T^''^^^^^^^^*-     Thus  Louis 
and  Hector  had  early  been  initiated  into  the 

masteries  of  the  chase.    They  could  make  dead- 
talis,  and  pite,  and  traps,  and  snares,~they  were 
as  expert  a^  Indians  in  the  use  of  the  bow,-^ 
they  could  pitch  a  stone,  or  fling  a  wooden  dart 
at  partridge,  hare,  and  squirrel,  with  almost  un- 
emng  aim;  and  were  as  swift  of  foot  as  young 
fawns.    Now  it  was  that  they  learned  to  value 
in  ite  fullest  extent  this  useful  and  practical 
knowledge   which  enabled  them  to  face  with 
fortitude  the  privations  of  a  life  so  precarious  as 
that  to  which  they  were  now  exposed. 

It  wa^  one  of  the  elder  Maxwell's  maxims  - 
Never  let  difficulties  overcome  you,  but  rathei 
strive  to  conquer  them ;  let  the  head  direct  the 
hand,  and  the  hand,  like  a  well-disciplined  sol- 
dier, obey  the  head  as  chief.     When  his  chil- 
dren  expressed  any  doubts  of  not  being  able  to 
accomplish  any  work  they  had  begun,  he  would 
say      Have  you  not  hands,  have  you  not  a 
head,  have  you  not  eyes  to  see,  and  reason  to 
guide  you  ?    As  for  impossibilities,  they  do  not 


r 


4i  «» 


THE   CANADIAN  CRUSOKS.  55 

belong  to  the  trade  of  a  soldier,-^he  dare  not 
see  them."    Thus  were  energy  and  perseverance 
early  instilled  into  the  minds  of  his  children  • 
they  were  now  called  upon  to  give   practical 
proofs  of  the  precepts  that  had  been  taught  them 
m  childhood.     Hector  trusted  to  his  axe,  and 
Louis  to  hiscoMteaw.ofe-cAa55e*  and  pocket-knife- 
the  latter  was  a  present  from  an  old  forest  friend 
of  his  father's,  who  had  visited  them  the  previous 
winter,  and  which,  by  good  luck,  Louis  had  in 
bis  pocket,— a  capacious  pouch,  in  which  were 
stored  many  precious  things,  such  as  coils  of 
twme  and  string,  strips  of  leather,  with  odds  and 
ends  of  various  kinds;  nails,  bitsof  iron,  leather 
and  such  miscellaneous  articles  as  find  their  wuv 
most  mysteriously  into  boys' pockets  in  general 
and  Louis  Perron's  in  particular,  who  was  a 
wonderful  collector  of  such  small  matters. 

The  children  were  not  easily  daunted  by  the 
prospect  of  passing  a  few  days  abroad  on  so 
charming  a  spot,  and  at  such'a  lovely  season 
where  fruite  were  so  abundant ;  and  when  they 
had  finished  their  morning  meal,  so  providen- 
tially  placed  within  their  reach,  thev  gratefully 
acknowledged  the  mercy  of  God  in'this  thing 

Having  refreshed  themselves  bv  bathing  their 
hands  and  faces  in  the  lake  they  ohe-^rfully  re- 


*  Huntiniy.lmifa 


66 


THE   CANADIAN   CKUSOES. 


newed  their  wanderings,  though  something  loth 
to  leave  the  cool  shade  and  the  spring  L  an 
untrodden  path  among  the  hills  and  deep  ravines 
that  furrow  the  shores  of  the  Eice  Lake  in  so 
remarkable  a  manner ;  and  often  did  our  weary 
wanderers  pause  to  look  upon  the  wild  glens  and 
precipitous  hills,  where  the  fuwn  and  the  shv 
deer  found  safe  retreats,  unharmed  bv  the  rifle 

headed  eagle  built  their  nests,  unheeding  and 
unharmed    Twice  that  day,  misled  by  following 
the  track  of  the  deer,  had  they  returned  to  the 
same  spot,-a  deep  and  lovely  glen,  which  had 
once  been  a  water-course,  but  now  a  green  and 
Bhady  valley.     This  they  named  the  Valley  of 
the  Kock,  from  a  remarkable  block  of  red  granite 
that  occupied  a  central  position  in  the  narrow 
defile ;  and  here  they  prepared  to  pass  the  second 
night  on  the  Plains.    A  few  boughs  cut  down 
and  interlaced  with  the  shrubs  round  a  small 
space  cleared  with  Hector's  axe,  formed  shelter 
and  leaves  and  grass,  strewed  on  the  ground' 
formed  a  bed,  though  not  so  smooth,  perhaps,  as 
the  ^ark  and   cedar-boughs  that  the  Indians 
spread  within  their  summer  wigwams  for 'car- 
pets  and  couches,  or  the  fresh  heather  that  the 
•lighlanders  gather  on  the  wild  Scottish  hills 

While  Hector  and  Louis  were  preparing  the 
Bleepmg-chamber,  Catharine  busied  herself  m 


L 


t' 


■■»t^Jl, 


I 


THE   CANADIAN  ORtSOES.  67 

preparing  the  partridge  for  their  supper.    Hay 
ing  collected  some  thin  peelings  from  the  m»<,ed 
bark  of  a  birch-tree,  that  grew  on  the  sid^rf 
the  steep  bank  to  which  she  gave  the  appro- 
pnate  name  of  the  "  Birken  shaw,"  she  dried  it 
in  her  bosom,  and  then  beat  it  fine  on  a  big 
stone,  t,ll  :t  resembled  the  finest  white  paper 
This  proved  excellent  tinder,  the  aromatic  oil 
contamecl  m  the  bark  of  the  birch  being  highly 
nflammaUe.     Hector  had  prudently  retaLd 
the  flmt  that  they  had  used  in  the  morning, 
and  a  fire  was  now  lighted  in  front  of  the  rocky 
stone  and  a  forked  stick,  stuck  in  the  ground 
and  bent  over  the  coala,  served  as  a  spit,  on 
which    gipsy-feshion,   the  partridge  wa^  Lus- 
pended,--a  scanty  meal,  but  thankfully  par- 
tal:en  of,  though   they  knew  not  how^they 
should  breakfast  next  morning.    The  childrel 
felt  they  were  pensioners  on  God's  providence 

lun'them.''^  '"'  '^"^^"^  °'  *"«  -"J—    • 

guine  than  his  sister  or  cousin-expressed  soma 
anxiety  for  their  provisions  for  L  monZ 

when  he  read  portions  from  the  holy  word  of 

^:'' !;t^  ^^^^  J>»^  "PO"  her'brothert 
_„„,  „iii,h  xc.iea  on  iier  knees,  as  he  sat  upon 


58 


THE   CANADIAN   CRUSOES. 


the  grass  beside  her,  and  said,  in  a  low  and 
earnest  tone,  '"Consider  the  fowls  of  the  air- 
they  sow  not,  neither  do  they  reap,  nor  gathei 
into  barns,  yet  your  heavenly  Father  feedeth 
tliem      Are  ye  not  much  better  than  they  ?' 
Surely  my  brother,  God  careth  for  us  as  much 
as  for  the  wild  creatures,  that  have  no  sense  to 
praise  and  glorify  His  holy  name.     God  cares 
for  the  creatures  He  has  made,  and  supplies 
them  with   knowledge  where  they  shall  find 
food  when  they  hunger  and  thirst.     So  I  have 
heard  my  father  say ;    and  surely  our  father 
knows,  for  is  he  not  a  wise  man,  Hector?" 
"I    remember,"    said    Louis,    thoughtfully 
hearing  my  mother  repeat  the  words  of  a 
good  old  man  she  knew  when  she  lived  in 
Quebec;-' When  you  are  in  trouble,  Mathilde/ 
he  used  to  say  to  her,  'kneel  down,  and  ask 
Gods  help,  nothing  doubting  but  that  He  has 
the  power  as  well  as  the  will  to  serve  you,  if  it 
be  for  your  good;  for  He  is  able  to  bring  all 
things  to  pass.     It  is  our  want  of  faith  that  pre- 
vent our  prayers  from   being  heard.'    And 
truly  I  think  the  wise  old  man  was  right,"  he 
added.  °    '* 

It  was  strange  to  hear  grave  words  like  these 
from  the  lips  of  the  giddy  Louis.  Possibly  thev 
had  the  greater  weight  on  that  account.  And 
Hector,  looking  up  with  a  serious  air,  replied, 


THE   CANADIAN    CRL'SOES. 


69 


* 


Four  mother's  friend  wms  a  good  man,  Louis 
Our  want  of  trust  in  God's  power  must  displease 
Him.     And  when  we  think  of  all  the  great  and 
glorious  thmgs  He  has  made,  -that  blue  sky 
those  sparkling  stars,  the  beautiful  moon  that  is 
now  shmmg  down  upon  us,  and  the  hills  and 
waters,   the  mighty  forest,   and  little  creeping 
plants  and  flowers  that  grow  at  our  feet-i^ 
must  indeed,  seem  foolish  in  His  eyes  that  we 
should  doubt  His  power  to  help  us,  who  not 
on  y  made  all  these  things,  but  ourselves  also." 
True,"  said  Catharine;  "but  then.  Hector 
we  are  not  as  God  made  us ; ,  for  the  wicked  one 
cast  bad  seed  in  the  fiel  ^  where  God  had  sown 
the  good." 

"Let  us,  however,  consider  what  we  shall  do 
for  food:  for,  you  know,  God  helps  those  that 
help  themselves,"  said  Louis.  "  Let  us  consider 
ahttle.  There  must  be  plenty  of  fish  in  the 
iaJre,  both  small  and  great." 

"But  how  are  we  to  get  them  out  of  it?" 
rejomed  Catharine.  "  I  doubt  the  fish  will  swim 
at  their  ease  there,  while  we  go  hungry." 

"  Do  not  interrupt  me,  ma  ch^re.  Then,  we 
see  the  track  of  deer,  and  the  holes  of  the  wood- 
chuck;  we  hear  the  cry  of  squirrels  and  chit- 
munks,  and  tnere  are  plenty  of  partridges,  and 
ducks,  and  quails,  and  snipes ;  of  course,  we 

have  to  COmtrivA  flnmo  TTr«^  *-  7-.M1  j^t  ^       . 

,,„.^^  ^aj  5^^  jj^^ll  mem.    ijruits 


00 


THE   CANADIAN  CKUSOES. 


there  are  in  abundance,  and  plenty  of  nuts  of 
different  kinds.     A  t  present  wo  have  plenty  ot 
fine  strawberries,  and  huckleberries  will  be  ripe 
soon  in  profusion,  and  bilberries  too,  and  you 
know  how  pleasant  they  are ;  as  for  raspberries, 
I  see  none;  but  by  and  by  there  will  be  May- 
apples— I  see  great  quantities  of  them  in  the 
low    grounds;    grapes,    high-bush  cranberries, 
haws  as  large  as  cherries,  and  sweet  too ;  squaw' 
berries,  wild  plums,  choke-cherries,  and  bird- 
cherries.     As  for  sweet  acorns,  there  will  be 
bushels  and  bushels  of  them  for  the  roasting,  as 
good  as  chestnuts,  to  my  taste ;  and  butter-nuts, 
and  hickory-nuts,--with     many    other    good 
things."     And  here  Louis  stopped  for  want  of 
breath  to  continue  his  catalogue  of  forest  dain- 
ties. 

"Yes;  and  there  are  bears,  and  wolves,  and 
racoons,  too,  that  will  eat  us  for  want  of  better 
food,"  interrupted  Hector,  slyly.  "  Nay,  Katty, 
do  not  shudder,  as  if  you  were  already  in  the 
clutches  of  a  big  bear.  Neither  bear  nor  wolf 
shall  make  minceiaeat  of  thee,  my  girl,  while 
Louis  and  thy  brother  are  near,  to  wield  an.axe 
or  a  knife  in  thy  defence." 

"  Nor  catamount  spring  upon  thee,  ma  belle 
cousine,"  added  Louis,  gallantly,  "  while  thy  bold 
cousin  Louis  can  scare  him  away." 

"  "Well,  now  that  we  know  our  resources,  the 


r 


ki 


THE   CANADIAN   CRUSOES.  61 

next  thing  is  to  consider  how  we  are  to  obtain 
them,  my  dears,''  said  Catharine.  •'  For  fishing, 
you  know,  we  must  have  a  hook  and  line,  a 
rod,  or  a  net.  Now,  where  are  these  to  be  met 
with  ?" 

Louis  nodded  his  head  sagaciously.  "The 
line  I  think  I  can  provide ;  the  hook  is  more 
difficult,  but  I  do  not  despair  even  of  that.  As 
to  the  rod,  it  can  be  cut  from  any  slender  sap- 
ling  near  the  shore.  A  net,  ma  chdre,  I  could 
make  with  very  little  trouble,  if  I  had  but  a 
piece  of  cloth  to  sew  over  a  hoop." 

Catharine  laughed.  "  You  are  very  inge- 
nious,  no  doubt.  Monsieur  Louis,  but  where  are 
you  to  get  the  cloth  and  the  hoop,  and  the  means 
of  sewing  it  on  ?" 

Louis  took  up  the  corner  of  his  cousin's  apron 
with  a  provoking  look. 

"My  apron,  sir,  is  not  to  be  appropriated  for 
any  such  purpose.  You  seem  to  covet  it  for 
every  thing." 

"  Indeed,  ma  petite,  I  think  it  very  unbecom- 
ing  and  very  ugly,  and  never  could  see  any  good 
reason  why  you  and  mamma  and  Mathilde 
should  wear  such  frightful  things." 

"  It  is  to  keep  our  gowns  clean,  Louis,  when 
we  are  milking  and  scrubbing,  and  doing  all 
sorts  of  household  duties,"  said  Catharine. 

"Well-  rna  l^ollo   tr^n   }>i"-   -^:ii . 

-J  —a  — .,^  ^^(.i  nave  ijutmur  cows  to 


«2 


THE   CANADIAN   CRUSOES. 


milk,  nor  house  to  dean,"  replied  the  annoying 
boy;  "so  there  can  be  little  want  of  the  apron 
I  could  turn  it  to  fifty  useful  purposes." 

"Pooh,  nonsense,"  said  Hector,  impatiently, 
let  the  child  alone,  and  do  not  tease  her  about 
her  apron." 

"Well,  then,  there  is  another  good  thing  I 
did  not  think  of  before,  water  mussels.  I  have 
heard  my  father  and  old  Jacob  the  lumberer 
say,  that,  roasted  in  their  shells  in  the  ashes 
with  a  seasoning  of  salt  and  pepper,  they  are 
good  eatmg  when  nothing  better  is  to  be  got." 

"No  doubt,  if  the  seasoning  can  be  procured.'* 
said  Hector,  "but,  alas  for  the  salt  and  the  pei- 
perl"  ^  ^ 

"  Well,  we  can  eat  them  with  the  best  of  all 
sauces-hunger;  and  then,  no  doubt,  there  are 
crayfish  m  the  gravel  under  the  stones,  but  we 

tTem  """^  "^^^  ^  ^'''''^  ^"^  "''"  ^°^^''  '°  *^^^"S 

"  To-morrow,  then,  let  us  breakfast  on  fish  " 

sajd  Hector.     "You  and  I  will  try  our  luck, 

T  1  ^^  ^^^^^""^  strawberries;  and  if  our  line 
should  break,  we  can  easily  cut  those  long  locks 
from  Catharine's  head,  and  twist  them  mto 
Imes  -and  Hector  laid  his  hands  upon  the  long  • 
fair  hair  that  hung  in  shining  curls  about  his 
sisters  neck. 

"Cut  my  curls  I    This  is  even  worse  than 


i 


THE   CANADIAN  CRUSOKS.  68 

cousin  Louis'3  proposal  of  making  tinder  and 
fishmg-nets  of  my  apron,"  said  Catharine  sha- 
icing  back  the  bright  tresses,  which,  escaping  from 
the  snood  that  bound  them,  fell  in  golden  waves 
over  her  shoulders. 

"  In  truth,  Hec,  it  were  a  sin  and  a  shame  to 
cut  her  pretty  curls,  that  become  her  so  well  " 
said  Louis.  "But  ...  have  no  scissors,  m'a 
bdle,  so  you  need  fear  n.  .  njury  to  your  precious 

"  For  the  matte,  of  th.^,  Louis,  we  could  cut 
them  with  your  oov.  au-de^chasse.  I  could  tell 
you  a  story  that  my  father  told  me,  not  long 
since,  of  Charles  Stuart,  the  second  king  of  that 
name  m  England.  You  know  he  was  the 
grand-uncle  of  the  young  Chevalier  Charles 
Edward,  that  my  father  talks  of  and  loves  so 
much. 

"I  know  all  about  him,"  said  Catharine, 
noddmg  sagaciously ;  "  let  us  hear  the  story  of  his 
grand-unde      But  I  should  like  to  know  what 

KfngCh:l"°""""'^^°^°''--°^-it'> 
"Wait  a  bit,  Kate,  and  you  shall  hear,  that 

"VellT  ^^"'™'*'"  ^""'^  ^^'  brother. 

Well  then,  you  must  know,  that  after  some 

great  battle,  the  name  of  which  I  forget »  i„ 


•  natfla  «r  rrr— 


--■juaBsar. 


64 


THE   CANADIAN   CRUSOES, 


which  the  king  and  his  handfd  of  brave  soldiers 
were  defeated  by  the  forces  of  the  Parliament, 
(the  Eoundheads  as  they  were  called,)  the  poor 
young  king  was  hunted  like  a  partridge  upon 
the  mountains ;  a  large  price  was  set  on  his 
head,  to  be  given  to  any  traitor  who  should  slay 
him,  or  bring  him  prisoner  to  Oliver  Cromwell. 
He  was  obliged  to  dress  himself  in  all  sorts  of 
queer  clothes,  and  hide  in  all  manner  of  strange 
out-of-the-way  places,  and  keep  company  with 
rude  and  humble  men,  the  better  to  hide  his 
real  rank  from  the  cruel  enemies  that  sought  his 
life.     Once  he  hid  along  with  a  gallant  gentle- 
man,* one  of  his  own  brave  officers,  in  the 
branches  of  a  great  oak.     Once  he  was  hid  in  a 
mill ;  and  another  time  he  was  in  the  house  of 
one  Pendril.  a  woodman.     The  soldiers  of  the 
Parliament,  who  were  always  prowling  about, 
and  popping  in  unawares  wherever  they  sus- 
pected the  poor  king  to  be  hidden,  were,  at  one 
time,  in  the  very  room  where  he  was  standing 
beside  the  fire." 

"  Oh !"  exclaimed  Catharine,  "  that  was  fright- 
ful.    And  did  they  take  him  prisoner?"  - 

"  No ;  for  the  wLe  woodman  and  his  brothers, 
fearing  lest  the  soldiers  should  discover  that  he? 
was  a  cavalier  and  a  gentleman,  by  the  long 


^ 


T  vOlOfiCi  ^.-SrcicSa* 


THE  CANADIAN  CRUSOES. 


65 


I 


curls  that  the  king's  men  all  wore  in  those 
days,  and  called  lovelocks,  begged  of  his  majesty 
to  let  his  hair  be  cropped  close  to  his  head." 

"  That  was  very  hard,  to  lose  his  nice  curls." 

"  I  dare  say  the  young  king  thought  so  too, 
but  it  was  better  to  lose  his  hair  than  hi<^  head. 
So,  I  suppose,  the  men  told  him,  for  he  suffered 
them  to  cut  it  all  close  to  his  head,  laying  down 
his  head  on  a  rough  deal  table,  or  a  chopping- 
block,  while  his  faithful  friends  with  a  large 
knife  trimmed  off  the  curls." 

"  I  wonder  if  the  young  king  thought  at  that 
minute  of  his  poor  father,  who,  you  know,  was 
forced  by  wicked  men  to  lay  down  his  head 
upon  a  block  to  have  it  cut  from  his  shoulders, 
because  Cromwell,  and  others  as  hard-hearted 
as  himself,  willed  that  he  should  die ." 

"  Poor  king !"  said  Catharine,  sighing,  "  I  see 
that  it  is  better  to  be  poor  children,  wandering 
on  these  plains  under  God's  own  care,  than  to 
be  kings  and  princes  at  the  mercy  of  bad  and 
sinful  men." 

"  Who  told  your  father  all  these  things,  Hec  ?" 
said  Louis. 

"  It  was  the  son  of  his  brave  colonel,  who 

knew  a  great  deal  about  the  history  of  tho 

Stuart  kings,  for  our  colonel  had  been  with 

Prince  Charles,  the  young  chevalier,  and  fought 

by  bis  side  when  he  wai'  in  Scotland;  he  loved 
6* 


66 


THE   CANADIAN  CRUSOES, 


him  dearly,  and,  after  the  battle  of  Culloden, 
where  the  prince  lost  all,  and  was  driven  from 
place  to  place,  and  had  not  where  to  lay  his 
head,  he  went  abroad  in  hopes  of  better  times ; 
(but  those  times  did  not  come  for  the  poor 
prince ;)  and  our  colonel,  after  a  while,  through 
the  friendship  of  General  Wolfe,  got  a  commis- 
sion in  the  army  that  was  embarking  for  Quebec, 
and,  at  last,  commanded  the  regiment  to  which 
my  father  belonged.  He  was  a  kind  man,  and 
my  father  loved  both  him  and  his  son,  and 
grieved  not  p.  little  when  he  par  ed  from  him." 

"  Well,"  said  Catharine,  "  as  you  have  told 
me  such  a  nice  story,  Mister  Hec,  I  shall  forgive 
the  affront  about  my  curls." 

"Well,  then,  to-morrow  we  are  to  try  our 
luck  at  fishing,  and  if  we  fail,  we  will  make  us 
bows  and  arrows  to  kill  deer  or  small  game ;  I 
fancy  we  shall  not  be  over  particular  as  to  its 
quality.  Why  should  not  we  be  able  to  find 
subsistence  as  well  as  the  wild  Indians  ?" 

"True,"  said  Hector,  "the  wild  men  of  the 
wilderness,  and  the  animals  and  birds,  all  are 
fed  by  the  things  that  He  provideth  ;  then, 
wherefore  should  His  white  children  fear  ?" 

"I  have  often  heard  my  father  tell  of  the 
privaticiS  of  the  lumberers,  when  they  have 
fallen  short  of  provisions,  and  of  the  contri- 
vances of  himself  and  old  Jacob  Morelle,  when 


THE  CANADIAN   CRUSOES.  07 

tbey  were  lost  for  several  days,  nay,  weeks  I 
believe  it  was.    Like  the  Indians,  they  made 
tueii).elves  bows  and  arrows,  usijg  the  sinews 
of  tae  deer,  or  fresh  thongs  of  leather,  for  bow- 
strings; and  when  they  could  not  get  game  to 
.  eat,  .hey  boiled  the  inner  bark  of  the  slippery 
elm  to  jelly,  or  birch  bar^    and  drank  th^  sap 
of  the  sugar  maple  when  they  could  get  no 
water  but  melted  snow  only,  which  i.  unwhole- 
some ;  at  last,  they  even  boiled  their  own  mo- 
cassins." 

"  Indeed,  Louis,  that  mujt  have  been  a  very 
unsavoury  dish,"  said  Catharine. 

"  That  old  buckskin  vest  would  have  made 
a  famous  pot  of  soup  of  itself,"  added  Hector, 
or  the  deer-skin  hunting  shirt." 

"Well,  they  might  have  been  reduced  even 
to  that,"  said  Louis,  kaghing,  "  but  for  the  good 
fortune  that  befell  them  in  the  way  of  a  half- 
roasted  bear." 

"Nonsense,  cousin  Louis,  bears  do  not  ru.-^ 
about  ready  roasted  in  the  forest,  like  the  Iambs 
m  the  old  nursery  tale." 

"  Weil  aow,  Kate,  this  was  a  fact ;  at  least. 
It  was  tola  as  one  by  old  Jacob,  and  my  father 
did  not  deny  it;  shall  I  tell  you  about  it? 
A  ter  passing  several  hungry  days  with  no 
better  food  to  keep  them  alive  than  the  sera- 

pine's  of  the  innAr  Vio^l^  ^^*1 ^-i  ,     . 

-    ^  '""^  vi  fcuc  poplars  ana  eima, 


es 


THE   CANADIAN  CRUSOES. 


which  was  not  very  substantial  for  hearty  men, 
they  encamped  one  night  in  a  thick,  dark  swamp, 
—not  the  sort  of  place  they  would  have  chosen, 
but  that  they  could  not  help  themselves,  having 
been  enticed  into  it  by  the  tracks  of  a  deer  or  a 
moose,— and  night  came  upon  them  unawares, 
so  ttey  set  to  work  to  kindle  up  a  fire  with 
spunk,  and  a  flint  and  knife;  rifle  they  had 
none,  or  maybe  they  would  have  had  game  to  cat. 
Old  Jacob  fixed  upon  a  huge  hollow  pine,  that 
lay  across  ttieir  path,  against  which  he  soon 
piled  a  glorious  heap  of  boughs  and  arms  of 
trees,  and  whatever  wood  he  could  collect,  and 
lighted  up  a  fine  fire.     You  know  what  a  noble 
hand  old  Jacob  used  to  be  at  making  up  a  roar- 
ing fire ;  h^  thought,  I  suppose,  if  he  could  not 
have  warmth  within,  he  would  have  pleniv  of 
it  without.     The  wood  was  dry  pin  3  and  cedar 
and  birch,  and  it  blazed  away,  and  crackled  and 
burnt  like  a  pine-torch.    By  and  by  they  heard 
a  most  awful  growling  close  to  them.     '  That's 
a  big  bear,  as  I  live,'  said  old  Jacob,  looking  all 
about,  thinking  to  see  one  come  out  from  the 
thick  bush ;  but  Bruin  was  nearer  to  him  tha^i 
he  thought,  for  presently  a  great  black  beai 
burst  out  from  the  butt-end  of  the  great  burn- 
ing log,  and  made  towards  Jacob ;  just  then  the 
wind  blew  the  flame  outward,  and  it  caught  the 
bear's  thick  coat,  and  he  was  all  in  a  blaze  in 


11 


'^■•;. 


THE   CANADIAN   CRUSOES. 


69 


a  moment.  No  doubt  the  heat  of  the  fire  had 
penetrated  to  the  hollow  of  the  log,  where  he 
had  lain  himself  snugly  up  for  the  winter,  and 
wakened  him  ;  but  Jacob  seeing  the  huge  black 
brute  all  in  a  flame  of  fire,  began  to  think  it  was 
Satan'fc,  own  self  come  to  carry  him  off,  and  he 
roared  with  fright,  and  the  bear  roared  with" 
pam  and  rage,  and  my  father  roared  with  laugh- 
ing  to  see  Jacob's  terror ;  but  he  did  not  let  the 
bear  laugh  at  him,  for  he  seized  a  thick  pole 
that  he  had  used  for  closing  in  the  brands  and 
logs,  and  soon  demolished  the  bear,  who  was  so 
blinded  with  the  fire  and  smoke  that  be  made 
no  fight ;  and  they  feasted  on  roast  bear's  flesh 
for  many  days,  and  got  a  capital  skin  to  cover 
them  be.;.'de." 

"  What,  Louis  I  after  the  fur  was  all  singed  ?" 
said  Catharine. 

"  Kate,  you  are-  too  particular,"  said  Louis ; 
"  a  story  never  loses,  you  know." 

Hector  laughed  heartily  at  the  adventure, 
and  enjoyed  the  dilemma  of  the  bear  in  hia 
winter  quarters ;  but  Catharine  was  somewhat 
shocked  at  the  levity  displayed  by  her  cousin 
and  brother,  when  recounting  the  terror  of  old 
Jacob  and  the  sufferings  of  the  poor  bear," 

"You  boys  are  alwayr  so  unfeeling,"  she 
eaid,  gravely. 


i 


ndeed,  Kate,"  said  her  brother,  «'  tue  day 


m 


70 


THE  CANADIAN  CRUSOES. 


may  come  when  the  sight  of  a  good  piece  of 
roast  bear's  flesh  will  be  no  unwelcome  sight. 
If' we  do  not  And  our  way  back  to  Co' J  Spiir.C:^^ 
bef'jre  the  winter  sets  in.  Tve  mt.y  be  re<iiiced  to 
as  bad  a  state  (is  poor  Jacob  and  my  uncle  v/'ere 
in  the  pine  swaiups,  on  ilid  banks  of  the  St. 
John." 

''Ah!"  said  Catharine,  tr ;:>-nb1ing,  "that 
would  bo  too  bad  to  happen." 

'H3ourage,  ma  belle,  let  us  not  despair  for 
the  ;r.0TT0w.  Let  us  see  what  to-morrow  will 
dc  fo:  V.B ;  meantime,  we  will  not  neglect  the 
bless' ngs  wo  still  possess ;  see,  our  partridge  is 
ready,  let  us  eat  our  supper,  and  be  thankful ; 
and  for  grace  let  us  say,  'Sufficient  unto  the 
day  is  the  evil  thereof.' " 

Long  exposure  to  the  air  had  sharpened  their 
appetites  —  the  hungry  wanderers  needed  no 
further  invitation,  the  scanty  meal,  equally 
divided,  was  soon  despatched. 

It  is  a  common  saying,  bat  excellent  to  be 
remembered  by  any  wanderers  in  our  forest 
wilds,  that  those  who  travel  by  the  sun  travel 
in  a  circle,  and  usually  find  themselves  at  night 
in  the  same  place  from  whence  they  started  in 
the  morning;  so  it  was  with  our  wanderers. 
At  sunset,  they  found  themselves  once  more  in 
the  ravine,  beside  the  big  stone,  in  which  they 
had  rested  at  noon.     They  had  imagined  them 


THE  CANADIAX  CRUSCES. 


71 


Belvea  miles  and  miles  distant,  from  it;   they 
were  grievously  disappointed. .  They  had  en- 
couraged each  other  with  the  confident  hope 
that  they  were  drawing  near  to  the  end  of  their 
bewildering  journey  ;   they  were  as  far  from 
their  home  as  ever,  without  the  slightest  clue 
to  guide  them  to  the  right  path.    Despair  is  not 
a  feeling  which  takes  deep  root  in  the  youthful 
breast.     The  young  are  always  so  hopeful ;  so 
confident  in   their  own  wisdom  and  skill  in 
averting  or  conquering  danger;  so  trusting;  so 
willing  to  believe  that  there  is  a  peculiar  Provi- 
dence watching  over   them.     Poor  children! 
they  had   indeed  need  of  such   a    belief  to 
strengthen   their  minds  and  encourage  them 
to  fresh  exertions,  for  new  trials  were  at  hand. 

The  broad  moonlight  had  already  flooded  the 
recesses  of  the  glen  with  light,  and  all  looked 
fresh  and  lovely  in  the  dew,  which  glittered  on 
tree  and  leaf,  on  herb  and  flower.    Catharine, 
who,  though  weary  with  her  fatiguing  wander- 
ings, could  not  sleep,  left  the  little  hut  of 
boughs  which  her  companions  had  put  up  near 
the  granite  rock  in  the  valley  for  her  accommo- 
dation,  and  ascended  the  western  bank,  where 
the  last  jutting  spur  of  its  steep  side  formed'a 
lofty    cliff-like    promontory,   at    the    extreme 
verge  of  which  the  roots  of  one  tall  spreading 
oak  formed  a  most  inviting  seat,  from  whence 


72 


THE   CANADIAN  CRUSOES. 


the  traveller  looked  down  into  a  level  track, 
which  stretched  away  to  the  edge  of  the  lake! 
This  flat  had  been  the  estuary  of  the  mountain* 
stream,  which  had  once  rushed  down  between 
the  hills,  forming  a  narrow  gorge  ;  but  now,  all 
was  changed  ;  the  waters  had  ceased  to  flow,  the 
granite  bed  was  overgrown,  and  carpeted  with 
deer-grass  and  flowers  of  many  hues,  wild  fruits 
and  bushes,  below;    while  majestic  oaks  and 
pines  towered  above.   A  sea  of  glittering  foliage 
lay  beneath  Catharine's  feet ;  in  the  distance 
the  eye  of  the  young  girl  rested  on  a  belt  pf 
shining  waters,  which  girt  in  the  shores  like  a 
silver  zone;   beyond,  yet  more  remote  to  the 
northward,  stretched  the  illimitable  forest. 

Never  had  Catharine  looked  upon  a  scene 
so  still  or  so  fair  to  the  eye ;  a  holy  calm  seem- 
ed to  shed  its  influence  over  her  young  mind, 
and  peaceful  tears  stole  down  her  cheeks.    Not 
a    sound  was  there  abroad,   scarcely   a  leaf 
stirred;  she  could  have  stayed  for  hours  there 
gazing  on  the  calm  beauty  of  nature,  and  com- 
muning  with  her  own  heart,  when  suddenly 
a  stirring,  rustling  sound  caught  her  ear;   it 
came  from  a  hollow  channel  on  one  side  of 'the 
promontory,  which  was  thickly  overgrown  with 
the  shrubby  dog-wood,  wild  rosea,  and  bilberry 
bushes.    Imagine  the  terror'  which  seized  the 
poor  girl,  on  perceiving  a  grisly  beast  breaks 


1 


I 


THE  CANADIAN  CRUSOES. 


73 


'if. 


tg 


ing  through  the- covert  of  the  bushes.  With  a 
scream  and  a  bound,  which  the  most  deadly 
fear  alone  could  have  inspired,  Catharine  sprung 
from  the  supporting  trunk  of  the  oak,  dashed 
down  the  precipitous  side  of  the  ravine;  now 
clinging  to  the  bending  sprays  of  the  flexile 
doo-'wood — now  to  some  fragile  birch  or  poplar 

now  trusting  to  the  yielding  heads  of  the 

sweet-scented  ceanothus,  or  filling  her  hands 
with  sharp  thorns  from  the  roses  that  clothed 
the  bank ;  flowers,  grass,  all  were  alike  clutched 
at  in  her  rapid  and  fearful  descent. 

A  loose  fragment  of  granite  on  which  she 
had  unwittingly  placed  her  foot  rolled  from 
under  her;  unable  to  regain  her  balance  she 
fell  forwards,  and  was  precipitated  through  the 
bushes  into  the  ravine  below ;  conscious  only  of 
unspeakable  terror  and  an  agonizing  pain  in 
one  of  her  ankles,  which  rendered  her  quite 
powerless.  The  noise  of  the  stones  she  had 
dislodged  in  her  fall  and  her  piteous  cries 
brought  Louis  and  Hector  to  her  side,  and  they 
bore  her  in  their  arms  to  the  hut  of  boughs  and 
laid  her  down  upon  her  bed  of  leaves  and  grass 
and  young  pine  boughs.  When  Catharine  was 
able  to  speak,  she  related  to  Louis  and  Hector 
the  cause  of  her  fright.  She  was  sure  it  must 
have  been  a  wolf  by  his  sharp  teeth,  long  jaws, 

TU«     1««»*     rAnnna    aVta   \\ttA     VlttH 
lie    xcaav    vLLvi'^^fj   vis.'.'   sji^^^i^    *-—-*- 


5 


if 


upon 


W  THE  CANADIAN  CRUSOES. 

of  him  hart  filled  her  with  terror,  he  vv 
»■;  •>..  a  fa,_  a  tree  with  hia  eyes  Ax^^  upon 
im^U  could  tell  them  no  more  that  happen- 
<-A,  she  never  felt  the  ground  she  was  on;  so 
great  was  her  fright.  , 

for  rambhng  ov.  ■  ,: ,  .  ,.„  al„„e,  but  Louis  was 
tuJI  of  tender  compassion  for  la  helk  cousine 
and  would  not  sullar  her  to  be  chidden.    Fortu 
nately,  no  bones  had  been  fractured,  thou..h  the 

theT-f  """^  "^"  severely  sp'rained;  but 
he  pamw^  .„te„se,  and  after  a  sleepless  night 
fte  boys  found  to  their  grief  and  dismay,  tha 

round.  This  was  an  unlooked-for  aggravation 
of  the.r  misfortune, ;  to  puz^ue  their  tvan^ering 
w^for  the  p.esent  impossible,  rest  was  thdf 
only  remedy  excepting  the  application  of  such 
coolmg  medicarncnt,  as  circumstances  IZkL 
supply  them  with.  Cold  water  eonstantTy  ap 
Phed  to  the  swollen  joint  was  the  first  Ui 

,t  T  "'^^'""^  •  ''"'■  ^'"P'«  <«  -"^  the  lo 
t.on,  .t  was  not  ea^y  to  obtain  it  in  sufficient 
quaa  Mes  They  ^re  fall  .  quarter  of  a  mile 
from  tne  lake  shore,  and  the  cS>ld  springs  Tear 
VT  r/«*«off;  and  the.  Zo!^yZ 
B^y  had  was  the  tin-pot,  which  hardly  ™„. 

fevered  sufferer  was  intolerable,  and  had  aiso  to 


iM 


4^' 


THE  CANADIAN  CRUSOES. 


78 


be  provided  for.  "  Poor  Catharine,  what  unex. 
pected  misery  she  now  endured  I 

The  valley  and  its  neighbouring  hills  abound- 
ed in  strawberries ;  they  were  now  ripening  in 
abundance ;  the  ground  was  scarlet  in  places 
with  this  delicious  fruit ;  they  proved  a  blessed 
relief  to  the  poor  sufferer's  burning  thirst.  Hec- 
tor and  Louis  were  unwearied  in  supplying  her 
with  them. 

Louis,  ever  fertile  in  expedients,  crushed  the 
cooling  fruit  and  applied  them  to  the  sprained 
foot ;  rendering  the  application  Htill  more  grate- 
ful by  spreading  them  upon  the  large,  smooth 
leaves  of  the  sapling  oak ;  these  he  bound  on 
with  strips  of  the  leathery  bark  of  the  moose- 
wood,*  which  he  had  found  growing  in  great 
abundance  near  the  entrance  of  the  ravine. 
Hector,  in  the  mean  time,  was  not  idle.  After 
having  collected  a  good  supply  of  ripe  straw- 
V'^rries,  he  climbed  the  hills  in  search  of  bird's 
.  js  and  small  game.  About  noon  he  returned 
with  the  good  news  of  having  discovered  a 
spring  of  fine  water  in  an  adjoining  ravine,  be- 
neath a  clump  of  bass-wood  and  black  cherry- 
trees  ;  he  had  also  1  *een  so  fortunate  as  to  kill  a 
woodchuck,   having  met  with  many  of  thoir 

*  "i>M*«i  j?ffttf**rM,"— Moose-wood.  American  mezereon, 
leather- wood.  From  the  Greek,  dirha.  a  foantfun  or  wet  plaoe, 
tte  nsoai  piaoe  of  growth. 


70 


1:1 


THE   CANADIAN   CRUSOES. 


burrows  in  the  gravelly  sides  of  the  hills     Tha 
woodchuck  seems  to  be  a  link  between  the  rab- 
bit  and  badger;  its  colour  is  that  of  a  leveret- 
It  ohmbs  like  the  racoon  and  burrows  like  the 
rabbit;  its  eyes  are  large,  full  and  dark,  the  lip 
cleft,  the  soles  of  the  feet  naked,  claws  sharp 
ears  short;  it  feeds  on  grasses,  grain,  fruit,  and 
berries.     The  flesh  is  white,  oily,  and,  in  the 
summer,  rank,  but  is  eaten  in  the  fall  by  the 
Indians  and  woodsmen;  the  skin  is  not  much 
valued.    They  are  easily  killed  by  dogs,  though, 
being  expert  cUmbers,  they  often  baffle  their 
enemies,   clinging  to  the  bark    beyond    their 
reach^  a  stone  or  stick  well-aimed  soon  kills 
them,  but  they  often  bite  sharply. 

The  woodchuck  proved  a  providential  supply 
and  Hector  cheered  his  companions  with  the 
assurance  that  they  could  not  starve,  as  there 
were  plenty  of  these  creatures  to  be  found 
They  had   seen  one   or   two  about   the  Cold 
Springs,  but  they  are  less  common  in  the  deep 
forest  lands  than  on  the  drier,  more  open  plains. 
It  is  a  great  pity  we  have  no  larger  vessel 
to  bring  our  water  from   the  spring  in,"  said 
Hector,  looking  at  the  tin-pot;  «  one  is  so  apt  to 
stumble  among  stones  and  tangled  underwood 
If  we  only  had  one  of  our  old  bark  dishes  we 
would  get  a  good  supply  at  once." 
"There  is  a  fallen  birch  not  far  frnm  *!,;»>» 


ft 

s 


i 


THE  CANADIAN  CRUSOES. 


77 


lis.    Tha 
1  the  rab* 

leveret ; 

like  the 
Ic,  the  lip 
's  sharp, 
ruit,  and 
I,  in  the 
1  by  the 
ot  much 

though, 
9e  their 
d  their 
on  kills 

supply, 
'ith  the 
s  there 

found. 

e  Cold 

le  deep 

plains. 

vessel 
,"  said 
)  apt  to 
rwood. 
bes  we 


•)» 


said  Louis ;  "  I  have  here  my  trusty  knife ;  what 
is  there  to  hinder  us  from  manufacturing  a 
vessel  capable  of  holding  water  -a  gallon  if  you 

like?" 

"How  can  you  sew  it  together,  cousin?' 
asked  Catharine;  "you  have  neither  deer 
sinews,  nor  war-tap."  [The  Indian  name  for 
the  flexble  roots  of  the  tamarack,  or  swamp 
larch,  which  they  make  use  of  inmai^ufacturing 
the  birch  baskets  and  canoes.] 

"  I  have  a  substitute  at  hand,  ma  belle,"  and 
Louis  pointed  to  the  strips  of  leather-wood  that 
he  had  collected  for  binding  the  dressings  on 
his  cousin's  foot. 

When  an  idea  once  struck  Louis,  he  never 
rested  till  he  worked  it  out  in  some  way.  In 
a  few  minutes  he  was  busily  employed,  stripping 
sheets  of  the  ever-useful  birch-bark  from  the 
trunk  that  had  fallen  at  the  foot  of  the  "  Wolf's 
Crag" — for  so  the  children  had  named  the 
memorable  spot  where  poor  Catharine's  accident 
had  occurred. 

The  rough  outside  coatings  of  the  bark, 
which  are  of  silvery  whiteness,  but  are  ragged 
from  exposure  to  the  action  of  the  weather  in 
the  larger  and  older  trees,  he  peeled  off,  and 
then  cutting  the  bark  so  that  the  sides  lapped 
well  over,  and  the  corners  were  secured  from 

1* 


78 


THE   CANADIAN   CRL^SOES. 


Of  the    moosf  o/jefhtlod  r'\^'"P^ 
through.     The  first  attemn,„?  °''«''  ^"^ 

«d  only  leaked  a    iit     1   r'''^  '^'  P"^°^<'. 
f  «  «ort  of  flap,  wU^  1  t'.T ^''^  ^»  -^°' 
W.in  cutting  ii,t  the  bat  'If  ^'^^  '^  "'" 
Indian  baskets  and  disW  ,,    ^'^  ^^P  '»  *e 
J I  tight  and  close.    The  If  ?1  "P'  ""'^  ''^^P' 
ii=  subsequent  attemol    f     ^'  ''"''^^^  *" 
fioiencies,   XouiswT'J"  '^'*f  "^  ''^  "e- 

-"t  great  admi,.ti»,  and  ,  VM  '°°'''^  "P™ 
bj  Catharine,  who  almr «  <•   *   ^  ""mmended 

-i«e  .atchi^,  ht  :S;reedi:  ^"*™^ 

.   I'"™  was  elated   bv   ^^'^^^"'S^- 
ingenuity,  and  was  fc-  •      ""    ^iooes.rfu] 

'^«^p4.  "urhaS;eZ?°''^"^'^'° 

'foter  to  bathe  her  no  J  [,'"'"'  ''^^e  ^Id 
quench  her  thirst  "),^J"'^^''  '"'''.  and  to 
to  Ws  feet,  refdyL  I'Z^'  '"^'^y  «P™ging 
but  Hector  imltlyZfZaV^', ''''''  '«»'^; 

^VT^«"?*''«p<2«Citfrr' 

'-eatS4^:^4™'^v'^ro:•f 

"I-et  us  both  5;  wr^  ^r^etf  altogether. 

Catharine  east  on   W  !  '  *'"'^^™'J  ^'^uis. 
glance.  ""   ''^  «»'«'■'   an   imploring 

"^''-'eaven.e,dearloni.,.Hecto,do 


managed  to 
^ing  strips 
■ough  and 
%  was  but 
G  purpose, 
'  for  want 
;tea  to  aJ- 
P  in  the 
^d  keeps 
edied  in 
'  its  de- 
'd  upon 
mended 
ifferinga 

3cessful 
Jctlj  to 
e  cold 
iiid  to 
inging 
bank  ; 
ousin, 
nding 
Louis 
ther. 
'buis. 
)ring 

I  do 


THE  CANADIAN   CRUSOES. 


79 


not  let  me  be  laft  alone."    Her  sorrowful  appeal 
stayed  t>ie  steps  of  the  volatile  Louis. 

"Go  you,  Hector,  as  you  know  the  way; 
I  will  not  leave  you,  Kate,  since  I  was  the 
cause  of  all  you  have  suffered;  I  will  abide 
by  you  in  joy  or  in  sorrow  till  I  see  you  once 
more  safe  in  your  own  dear  mother's  arms." 

Comforted  by  this  assurance,  Catharine 
quickly  dashed  away  the  gathering  tears  from 
her  cheeks,  and  chid  her  own  foolish  fears. 

"But  you  know,  dear  cousin,"  she  said,  "I 
am  so  helpless,  and  then  the  dread  of  that  hor- 
rible wolf  makes  a  coward  of  me." 

After  some  little  time  had  elapsed,  Hector 
returned ;  the  bark  vessel  had  done  its  duty  to 
admiration,  it  only  wanted  a  very  little  im- 
provement to  make  it  complete.    The  water 
was  cold  and  pure.     Hector  had  spent  a  little 
time  in  deepening  the  mouth  of  the  spring,  and 
placing  some  stones  about  it.     He  described 
the  ravine  as  being  much  deeper  and  wider,  and 
more  gloomy  than  the  one  they  occupied.     The 
sides  and  bottom  were  clothed  with  magnificent 
oaks.    It  was  a  grand  sight,  he  said,  to  stand  on 
the  jutting  spurs  of  this  great  ravine,  and  look 
down  upon  the  tops  of  the  trees  that  lay  below, 
tossing  their  rounded  heads  like  the  waves  of 
a  big  sea.     There  were  many  lovely  flowers, 

vetch ftS  of    HAVPTqI     Virif^a     W.,..      T-.V-      -.-_1     - 

--  — .— „.  ,,.{iuo,  wiuc,  vvuifcc,  auu  pea- 


so 

THE  CASADIAX  CRUSOES. 

SS  ™™°  ""  «^"--     A  beautiful 

abundance,    with      ™Jf '/'""' ^^f'^'-c^ps*  in 
bottom  of  thfal  profusion.      The 

with  thifk  «re^  ^  «'■"''"''  ■'="='"o°^d 

*■  valley  of  the  Big  Stone™'  "  *"  ™'"''  "^  *!>« 

ter  bad  i^sensibi^Cblbtd  t  Irfte'"  "^^ 

wild  -ouVa"ou,tn!f'w  '°"''^"^  «"« 
Though  brought  un  ,n ?i^  5      surrounded  it. 

yet  there  w^  1?.;''   ?'^' '"'' '"'^*'«'"«'^. 
"indsormrnersofi  ''"'^''  "  "<>«  '"  *i« 

P-e-dun^u^tlhtr^^riunf-''"- 
guiJeless   earnPQf   „    3  '   ^*  *^^y  were 

ttylaelSnrwIedrfhar'r '  """^  '^ 
books,  they  posses JS'"^""  ""^'^  ^'°'^ 
praotieal.  which  had  b^n  ttul  T  "''^"'  ""'' 
-dob.rvationintht:;!:r^re^2r- 

^ncAm,««,  or  painted-cup.  •** 

t  The  mouth  of  this  ra-ine  is  nnn,      ^ 
^avm^  fields  of  golden  grained  Zl  ?  ''  '^'  P^*^^'«^'  «°d 
place  of  the  wild  shrubs  and  ZtZtll  T''"'  ^'^'  "'^'^ 
Tie  lot  belongs  to  G.  Ley  a,        "  ^'''"'""■'^  "^'"'ned  it 


THE  CANADIAN   CliUSOES. 


81 


beautiful 
Morning 
-cups*  in 
n.  The 
n  places 
Jshioned 
t  into  a 
:hofthe 

to  the 
his  sis- 

3  grand 

ntiring 

ihusias- 

nd  the 

ded  it. 

icated, 

in  the 
Sim- 
were 

md  if 

'  from 

il  and 

•ience 


h,  and 
taken 
led  it 


For  several  days  the  pain  and  fever  arising 
from  her  sprain  rendered  arty  atte^ppt  at  re- 
moving Catharine  from  the  valley  of  the  "  Big 
Stone"  impracticable.  The  ripe  fruit  began  to 
grow  less  abundant  in  their  immediate  vicinity, 
and  neither  woodchuck,  partridge,  nor  squirrel 
had  been  killed ;  and  our  poor  wanderers  now 
endured  the  agonizing  pains  of  hunger.  Con- 
tinual exposure  to  the  air  by  night  and  by  day 
contributed  nt :  a  little  to  increase  the  desire  for 
food.  It  is  true,  there  was  the  yet  untried  lake, 
"bright,  boundless,  and  free,"  gleaming  in  sil- 
very splendour ;  but  in  practice  they  knew  noth- 
ing of  the  fisher's  craft,  though,  as  a  matter 
of  report,  they  were  well  acquainted  with  all 
the  mysteries  of  it,  and  had  often  listened  with 
delight  to  the  feats  performed  by  their  respective 
fathers  in  the  art  of  angling,  spearing,  and  net- 
ting. 

"  I  have  heard  my  father  say,  that  so  bold 
and  numerous  were  the  fish  in  the  lakes  and 
rivers  he  was  used  to  fish  in,  that  they  could 
be  taken  by  the  hand,  with  a  crooked  pin  and 
coarse  thread,  or  wooden  spear ;  but  that  was  in 
the  lower  province ;  and  oh,  what  glorious  tales 
I  have  heard  him  tell  of  spearing  fish  by  torch' 
light  l" 

"  The  fish  may  be  wiser  or  not  so  numeroua 


sjaid 


TT-  -i. . 


(IT ~      i4f 


82 


THJfi   CAxVADIAN   CRUSOES. 


"  I 


can  bear  to  be  moved,  we  will  go  down  to  t),, 
shore  and  try  our  l„ek;  bat  what  can  we  do 
we  have  neither  hook  nor  line  provided^ 
loma  nodded  bis  head,  and  sitting  down  on 

theS:'ofT  "'^ """  °'"^'  p-«'-ed  fr<:: 

tne  depths  of  his  capacious  pocket  a  bit  of  tin 
which  he  carefully  selected  from  among  a  mi"' 
cellaneous  hoard  of  treasures.  "Hel"  sad 
1%  ^f '"g;'  "P  '0  the  view  as  he  spok  /  "  Ze 
r  tteslide  of  an  old  powder-flask,  which  i  nicked 
up  from  am^g  some  rubbish  that  my  siste  had 
thrown  out  the  other  day."  ""ys^terhad 

"I  fear  you  will  make  nothinR  of  th;>t" 
said  Hector   "»  hit  „<•  i,  ,  *> 

If  jou  Wd  a  L  '"""'  """■'^  •'''  better, 

thing."  "°"''  ^°''  '"'g'^t  do  some- 

"Stay  a  moment,  Monsieur  Hec    wh».    1„ 

to  answer  m  such  ingenioua  hands  as  thore  „f 
our  young  French  Canadian.     "  I  Zl  remem 
bar,  K  t,^,  how  you  and  Mathilda  CghedT; 
me  for  treasuring  up  this  old  thing  months  ago 
Ah  Louis,  Louis,  you  little  knewfhe  use  it  w^ 
to  bo  put  to  then,"  he  added  thoughtful  v  LoT 
trophizmg  himself;    "how  littl/^    ^',  "^ 
whot ;»  t„  I  /■  11      .  'tie  do  we  know 

What  13  to  befall  us  in  our  young  days  I" 


i( 


THE  CANADIAN*   CRUS0E3. 


83 


"God  knows  it  all,"  said  Hector,  gravely, 
"  we  are  under  His  good  guidance." 

"  You  are  right,  Hec,  let  us  trust  in  His  mer- 
cy, and  He  will  take  good  care  of  us.  Come, 
let  us  go  to  the  lake,"  Catbarii;-  "dded,  and 
sprung  to  lier  feet,  but  as  quickl}  sank  down 
upon  the  grass,  and  regarded  her  companions 
wdth  a  piteous  look,  saying,  "I  cannot  walk  one 
step ;  alas,  alas !  what  is  to  become  of  me?  I  am 
only  a  useless  burden  to  you.  If  you  leave  me 
here,  I  shall  fall  a  prey  to  some  savage  beast, 
and  you  cannot  carry  me  with  you  in  your 
search  for  food." 

"  Dry  your  tears,  sweet  cousin,  you  shall  go 
with  us.  Do  you  think  that  Hector  or  Louis 
would  abandon  you  in  your  helpless  state,  to  die 
of  hunger  or  thirst,  or  to  be  torn  by  wolves  or 
bears  ?  We  will  carry  you  by  turns ;  the  dis- 
tance to  the  lake  is  nothing,  and  you  are  not  so 
very  heavy,  ma  belle  cousine  ;  see,  I  could  dance 
with  you  in  my  arms,  you  are  so  light  a  bur- 
den,"— and  Louis  gayly  caught  the  suJBfering  girl 
up  in  hifl  arms,  and  with  rapid  steps  struck  into 
the  deer  path  that  wound  through  the  ravine 
towards  the  lake;  but  when  they  reached  a 
pretty  rounded  knoll,  (where  Wolf  Tower*  now 
stands,)  Louis  would  fain  place  his  cousin  on  a 


afloouat  of  ih«  »  Wolf  Tow«r,"  lU  Ui*  Apptudix, 


(Mil 


1  '  V 


^  THE   CANADIAN  CRUSOES 

«  her  fee,  whlje  hel;    'Cr^  r"""" 

-        gathered  the  fruit  that  Jet  :mt''X' ,"' 

grass  to  refresh  himself  aft  J  I,     /•  °'    ^  '°"8 

then,  whileresting  on  the^.1^'    f  ^'"''  *°' 

Catharine  ealled  the  hill  t  ,    ^''°'"'    ^ 

With  -anufacturij  ,rlsST^  'l""'^ 
the  aid  of  his  knife  the  w/T!  ''°°''  ""> 

file ;  a  bit  of  t,:  „e  was^LI  Z'  T^  ^  '«^ 
have  always  a  bit  ofll^t  tSirt     '  -'"^^ 
Lo«i3,  as  I  have  before  hifted  wir'""'^'""* 
hoarder  of  ™eh  small  matte     Th'  T'^^''" 
«oon  attached  to  the  hook  a?d  P    f  ''""g^as 
long  in  cutting  a  saolin^V;,?    ^"^^  ""^  "o' 
purpose  of  afehL'K  hT'""''  "^"  *« 
P^ceeded  to  the  fa2  Zre  HccSrT d '^^ 
^ying  the  crippled  Cath^ne  by  tur^f  ^r 
there,  they  selected  a  sheltered  fnotT      ^'' 
grove  of  overhanging  cetoandt    ."'*"' ^ 
^ned  with  wild  vininv^fch'l^:*^^'  '^- 

tfpperpaT;ftfetrkrnfrh!''"'" 
network  of  loose  fibres  and  *!!•  »  a         ^^"^ 

tinkling  overamossj  ogtt  heX  T*?'  *"' 
'Pread  itself  among  tht^undlt'  T"*  quietly 
^•at  formed  the  b'eafh  o^the  at^Y^f 
"-  pleasant  bower  CathaHn^coSl^eptntd 


'■^ 


THE   CANADIAN   CRUSOES. 


86 


beside  the 
7  ground 
3a ch,  and 

tte  long 
?ue;  and 
owe,"  as 

himself 
3ok  with 
tie  rustj 
I, — bojs 
■eos,  and 
■ovident 
'ingwas 
vas  not 
^ell  the 
3d  they 

liOuis 

When 
leath  a 
3s,  fes- 
TOven, 
to  the 

from 
nging 
s,  fell 
lietljr 
bbles 
leath 
,  and 


watch  hei  companions  at  their  novel  employ- 
ment, or  bathe  her  feet  and  infirm  ankle  in  the 
cool  streamlet  that  rippled  in  tiny  wavelets  over 
its  stony  bed. 

If  the  amusement  of  fishing  prove  pleasant 
and  exciting  when  pursued  for  pastime  only,  it 
may  readily  be  conceived  that  its  interest  must 
be  greatly  heightened  when  its  object  is  satis- 
fying a  craving  degree  of  hunger.  Among  the 
sunny  spots  on  the  shore,  innumerable  swarms 
of  the  flying  grasshopper  or  field  crickets  were 
sporting,  and  one  of  these  proved  an  attractive 
bait.  ■*  The  line  was  no  sooner  cast  into  the  wa- 
ter, than  the  hook  was  seized,,  and  many  were 
the  brilliant  specimens  of  sun-fish  that  our 
eager  fishermen  cast  at  Catharine's  feet,  all 
gleaming  with  gold  and  azure  scales.  Nor  was 
there  any  lack  of  perch,  or  that  delicate  fish 
commonly  known  in  these  waters  as  the  pink 
roach. 

Tired  at  last  with  their  easy  sport,  the  hungiy 
boys  next  proceeded  tc  the  grateful  task  of 
scaling  and  dressing  their  fish,  and  this  they  did 
very  expeditiously,  as  soon  as  the  more  difficult 
part,  that  of  kindling  up  a  fire  on  the  beach,  had 
been  accompMshed  with  the  help  of  the  flint, 
knife,  and  dried  rushes.  The  fish  were  then 
suspended,  Indian  fashion,  on  forked  sticks  stuck 


__- .._   .^   _„;i.»i»i_ i« 

lii  ijiis^  aii.\^i.m*x   iSiixxji  iiivjixi-iv^   tilt  a  siAXbC4i.^A^  cmMi^cj 


i.U_ 


, J    -._J  :-^i: J 


8 


L 


!      ' 


Oft 

THE   CANADIAN  CRUSOfig 

^ead  a  table  for  us  here  i^  th.      >/ *'  '"''''^''' 
miraculous  did  this  am^il   *^  "M«™esa;%o 

&od  seem  in  the  e  '    rf  ^.'^^^'^  °^  ''^'''^'""^ 
aature.  ^^  °^  ""^  «mple  child  of 

Tbey  had  often  heard  foil  „<•.!.    „ 
^iieh  the  feh  couH  f.  f"""  '^""''3'  with 

known  noAingoffwtr?'"'  '"'  *«^  '>''<» 
^  the  stream!  and  o^v     If  ""^  «^P^™nce, 

fordedthen.bnt^HuleCnuZf''"'''^™^ 
their  skill  as  neler,  •  jP?™"  '^ ^^^exercBing 

Plements  with  IS  thlv  "  7''  *^  "'''^  '» 
™lt  of  their  morn^t  snL  ^"'^^'"''  ""^  "•«• 
of  divine  interCnlTnT-T.^''  "'"«  '"'"' 

and  contented  in^ht  be,i    "':^,  t^"     ^'"'"^ 
forgotten  by  their  ),»„„    i    J;     "'*'•>'  ''^'^  "ot 
"children  i^  hTwood'Sf"' ^^^^  ?»- 
tide  to  that  beneficent  b;..  "^  '''"'  S^a"" 
-en  a  sparrow  t^ tl'unteir "  ^"^^^^""  -' 

the  green  shade  s^tTed  h  1*^  "^  '*«  ^'t  Z 
the  flowing  wate^anf  thf  oft  "°^  ^""'  "' 
the  many-eoloured  iZ^t  th»f  ^  ""'"S  "^ 
-he  fragrant  leaves  wS  thai  7r*  """^S 

--.WyoungheanU^t'SthtS: 


I 


■3 


THE  CANADIAN  CRUSOKS. 


87 


»i 


and  holy  aspirations  to  the  great  Creator  of  all 
things  living.  A  peaceful  calm  diffused  itself 
over  her  mind,  as  with  hands  meekly  folded 
across  her  breast,  the  young  girl  prayed  with 
the  guileless  fervour  of  a  trusting  and  faithful 
heart. 

The  sun  was  just  sinking  in  a  flood  of  glory 
behind  the  dark  pine-woods  at  the  head  of  the 
lake,  when  Hector  and  Louis,  who  had  been 
carefully  providing  fish  for  the  morrow,  (which 
was  the  Sabbath,)  came  loaded  with  their  finny 
prey  carefully  strung  upon  a  willow  wand,  and 
found  Catharine  sleeping  in  her  bower.  Louis 
was  loth  to  break  her  tranquil  slumbers,  but  her 
careful  brother  reminded  him  of  the  danger  to 
which  she  was  exposed,  sleeping  in  the  dew  by 
the  water  side;  "Moreover,"  he  added,  "we 
have  some  distance  to  go,  and  we  have  left  the 
precious  axe  and  the  birch-bark  vessel  in  th*e 
valley." 

These  things  were  too  valuable  to  be  lost,  and 
BO  they  roused  the  sleeper,  and  slowly  recom- 
menced their  toilsome  way,  following  the  same 
path  that  they  had  made  in  the  morning.  For- 
tunately, Hector  had  taken  the  precaution  to 
bend  down  the  flexile  branches  of  the  dogwood 
and  break  the  tops  of  the  young  trees  that  they 
had  passed  between  on  their  route  to  the  lake, 


88 


I 


THE  CANADIAN  CRdsoES. 


•»"f  3  by  the  rockfn  the™,i:V  "  "'"'""  °' 

^ith  the  &h.  it ;:  rir.""^"^''''^- 

«oon  clouded  the  see/e  Teepetdt  1'T"'«'" 

masses  of  foJiase.  which  .,«        ^  "'''  '''''^J' 

of  obscurity  up^n  1 'v  „        "  ^""'^'-  'J-'gree 

iad  now  left  the  oallt  T^  ''^"' '  ''«  "-^y 

of  the  valley.     The  ^fte   ll  r"'"''''  ""^  Sorge 

.*He  grotes  Je  .hadow:'oTtS;Th°f '!"  P^'"' 
in  long  array  aoros.!  ihl  7  ,  '  *^' stretched 
«de,  teking,~l*VttP  ^'"^^  ""^  «*er 

f»>  shape,  a^akened'^'tra^retl-"''''  ""''  '"''»- 
tbe  mind  of  these  !„'/?  '^^'■''gs  of  dread  in 

»ost  pei^ona  bred  Zl  rlV'^'^''''''  '*« 
fc-  '.re  str^Jy^I:^""^^heir  imagina- 

6a.^.    Here  thef  i  th!  f    T  *  .'"P«''3«'ioU8 

from  their  beloyed  pa-e J,"^ ^  ""''^™^^'  ''^ 

with  no  visible  .r^t!^:^:^^^'  ^'^''' 

none  to  encourage  or^to  che  '"r     ^^f ' 

matter  of  surnri«>  ,Y  ti,  "'  "^^  "  be 

tied  the  leaves  or  waved    t  ^'''V''''  '^ 
them  ?  ^^"^  *^^  branches  abori 

The  gay  and  lively  Louis  h]\fh. 
bird  in  the  bright  sunliV^r'        .    ^'  ^"^  ^^^^ 

oppressed  by  this  tZ^'  ""^^  '^'  "^'^^  ^^^^^J^ 
a  Dj  this  strange  superstitious  fear  wK.^ 


THE  CANADIAN  CRUSOES. 


89 


'■j  nothing 
'jgwam  of 

burdened 
^ily  laden 

he  heavy 
T  degree 
for  they 
he  gorge 
he  path, 
tretched 
n  either 
d  fanci- 
[read  in 
"3;  like 
oagina- 
stitioua 
3SS,  far 
learth, 
anger, 
lit  be 
;errDr- 
t  ru*- 
aboT? 

wild 
asily 
vheu 


■>M 


the  shades  of  evening  were  closing  round,  and 
he  would  start  with  ill-disguised  terror  at  every 
sound  or  shape  that  met  his  ear  or  eye,  though 
the  next  minute  he  was  the  first  to  laugh  at  his 
own  weakness.     In  Hector,  the  feeling  was  of  a 
graver,  more  solemn  cast,  recalling  to  his  mind 
all  the  wild  and  wondrous  tales  w'  '    which  his 
father  was  wont  to  enteitain  tL       a  Idrcn,  as 
they  crouched  round  the  huge  log-fire  of  an 
evening.     It  is  strange  the  charm  these  mnrvel- 
lous  tales  possess  for  the  youthful  mind,  no  mat- 
ter how  improbable,  or  how  often  told;  year 
after  year  they  will  be  listened  to  with  the  same 
ardour,  with  an  interest  that  appears  to  grow 
with  repetition.    And  still,  as  they  slowly  wan- 
dered along.  Hector  would  repeat  to  his  breath- 
less auditors  those  Highland  legends  that  were 
as  familiar  to  their  ears  as  household  words,  and 
still  they  listened  with  fear  and  wonder,  and 
deep  awe,  till  at  each  pause  he  made,  the  deep- 
drawn  breath  and  half  repressed  shudder  might 
be  heard.     And  now  the  little  party  paused  ir- 
resolutely, fearing  to  proceed,— they  had  omitted 
to  notice  some  land-mark  in  their  progress ;  the 
moon  had  not  long  been  up,  and  her  light  was 
as  yet  indistinct ;  so  they  set  them  down  on  a 
little  grassy  spot  on  the  bank,  and  rested  till 
the  moon  should  lighten  their  path. 
Louis  was  confident  they  were  not  far  from 


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23  WEST  MAIN  STREET 

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90 


THE   CAXADIAX  ORUSOES. 


the  valley  and  themass  of  r„1.T  '^''""S  ''°'' 
tiem  for  ao  many  n^!^.' "'^'''^'^  ^'^«I*«'-«^d 

»«o  in  sight,  r.hat:^^~rri"'»'- 

now  risen  moon  fell  unor,7  ''«'''  "^  «ie 

were  nearer  to  it ZnT't''."^^'^  ^'^^i  "^^^ 

"Forward  for  'TTp  ^c^*^  ^'n^gined. 
-«<' cried  I^ui.^^^'«S'°''«'<»d  the  wig 

-•l?ht;L:dtith?wT^'     "'"*    '"-. 
;;  Where  ?  whar?"  "«  ^^'""^ 

"The   wolf  I    the   wolf  I"  ™      j 

terrified  sirl     Th»r„  •  j    i    ^"'P^'^  ""t    the 

'-"toher,  stood  1  In  «  f  "  ^'^^^  « 
"ho  spoke,  a  longwl^d"^^  "^T'' '«"'  - 
»««med  as  if  it  can^  '  i^^'  I  "^"""^  °^  "Wot 
«nd  the  tops  of  Z^r^"*-^  ^^^^  ^a  earth 

with  speechless  horror  tl..  "'  ^^'^  ^ 

dark  outline  of  thrL^h^  ?^^  "1»-  '^^ 

«tood,  with  it.  U'a  Sd  1''^';  ^''«'«  i' 

outward,  and  ears  erecra^  -f  t  "?^.  ^l^'^''«J 
"■at  gave  back  thosTdill^      *^?''  *^  ^^° 


5r  had  txia 
le  children 
feeJing  for 

i  sheltered 
dark  mass 
ht  of  the 
des;  thej^ 
led. 
the  wig 

there, 

B. 

)ut    the 
summit 
tirel  or 
)  and  as 
'  which 
e  earth 
bridge 
rts,  aa 
3n  the 
ere  it 
3tched 
5  echo 
lother 
»g  or 
1  the 
nged 


THE   CANADIAN    CRUSOES. 


91 


cry  of  some  poor  fugitive  animal, — a  doe,  or 
fawn,  perhaps, — in  the  very  climax  of  mortal 
agony';  and  then  the  lonely  recesses  of  the 
forest  took  up  that  fearful  death-cry,  the  far- 
off  shores  of  the  lake  and  the  distant  islands 
prolonged  it,  and  the  terrified  children  clung 
together  in  fear  and  trembling. 

A  few  minutes  over,  and  all  was  still.  The 
chase  had  turned  across  the  hills  to  some  distant 
ravine ;  the  wolves  were  all  gone — not  even  the 
watcher  was  left,  and  the  little  valley  lay  once 
more  in  silence,  with  all  its  dewy  roses  and 
sweet  blossoms  glittering  in  the  moonlight ;  but 
though  around  them  all  was  peace  and  loveliness, 
it  was  long  ere  confidence  waa  restored  to  the 
hearts  of  the  panic-stricken  and  trembling  chil- 
dren. They  beheld  a  savage  enemy  in  every 
mass  of  leafy  shade,  and  every  rustling  bough 
struck  fresh  terrors  into  their  excited  mijByiJs. 
They  might  have  exclaimed  with  the  patilirch 
Jacob,  "  How  dreadful  is  this  plac«  1" 

With  hand  clasped  in  hand,  they  sat  them 
down  among  the  thick  covert  of  the  bushes,  for 
now  they  feared  to  move  forward,  lest  the 
wolves  should  return ;  sleep  was  long  a  stranger 
to  their  watchful  eyes,  each  fearing  to  be  the  only 
one  left  awake,  and  long  and  painful  was  their 
vigil.  Yet  nature,  overtasked,  at  length  gave 
v/Ay,  and  sleep  came  down  upon  their  eyelids; 


^2  THE   CAXADIA^V   CRUSOES 

their  forest-ted,  afd  thefo„ld„f    ^  °"v  °'  °^ 
and  twittering  tirds  olT^^        T"®  ^""^^^ 

^  m  and  4ht  r.  .^g^xrtrv'^™ 

dreams  of  home  and  friend,  M  u        "PP^ 

of  loneliness  and  desot  o„.^  ^^^tZ'^T, 

«ot  wander  fer  from  the  valley  bTt  took  Jr 
caution,  as  evening  drewon  t^'i    i^.    ,      "P"^" 

t-e  b.a.e  of  whifhX XXVK^^' 

s^:Th^:!i  p7->e/hadrotnt:F 

provea  an  ample  supply.    The  huokleberri^, 
were  ripening  too,  and  soon  afforded  th„ 
never-failing  source  of  food,  tCtl  ^Z.n 

:' whir  "'  .'"■"""■  "'^  --'  rifh  be'rri" 
«nr     ^^'^-Vbesidesbeingve^ 


'  H 


1  the  broad 
Jurtains  of 
ng  boughs 
sned  them 
5ra  happy 
ling  sense 
'  they  did 
k  the  pre- 
large  fire, 
uld  keep 

want  of 
^7  before 
leberries 

them  a 

also  an 

berries 
ng  very 


THE  CAJ^ADIAN  CRUSOES. 


98 


CHAPTER   III. 

"  Oh  for  a  lodge  in  the  vaat  wilderness,  -^ 

The  boundless  contiguity  of  shade  I" 

A  FORTNIGHT  had  now  passed,  and  Cath- 
arine still  suffered  so  much  from  pain  and 
fever,  that  they  were  unable  to  continue  their 
wanderings ;  all  that  Hector  and  his  cousin  could 
do,  was  to  carry  her  to  the  bower  by  the  lake, 
where  she  reclined  whilst  they  caught  fish.    The 
painful  longing  to  regain  their  lost  home  had  lost 
nothing  of  its  intensity;  and  often  would  the  poor 
sufferer  start  from  her  oed  of  leaves  and  boughs, 
to  ring  her  hands  and  weep,  and  call  in  piteous 
tones  upon  that  dear  father  and  mother,  who 
would  have  given  worlds,  had  they  been  at  their 
command,  to  have  heard  but  one  accent  of  her 
beloved  voice,  to  have  felt  one  loving  pressure 
from  that  fevered  hand.     Hope,  the  consoler, 
hovered  over  the  path  of  the  young  wanderers 
long  after  she  had  ceased  to  whisper  comfort  to 
the  desolate  hearts  of  the  mournful  parents. 

Of  all  that  suffered  by  this  sad  calamity,  no 
one  was  more  to  be  pitied  than  Louis  Perron  • 
deeply  did  the  poor  boy  lament  the  thoughtless 


84 


THE   C.AXADIAxV   CRUS0E3. 


been  with  me -rtT       "  ^"'^  ^ad  „6t 
We  been  ta-  tS„  ''''  ""'  ^"'^^'-^  ■"" 
earefu,.  he  -ifn^Cer  rf:r"'^ 
but  we  were  so  heedlesst.  .J     ?'"'"?"*  •' 
flowera  and  insect,  If  v^        *°"Sht  onlj  of 

paid  no  he:dr:?r  wj^?:'^™"^  '"•''-.  and 
is  life.     ThevounJn?         ^"s  Perron,  such 

flies  that  atS  the!  InT"^,  "^^  ^  ''"««^- 
and  amusement;  th^  W  thr  "'  P''*'™ 
of  «.e  thoughtful,  till  Z%fd  thr  TT'' 
have  followed  is  b^set  with  briL  ajl  '^ 
and  a  thousand  painful  difficuZ  th  J  ™ ' 
seen,  unexpected,  overwhel™,?!.       "'^''^•'"- 

a  sad  sense  of  th;iro™S"nd''V'^"  '^ 
punishment  of  their  erroT^ '  ^'^^P"  «>« 
themselves  alone,  but  "non  7  •"""  '^"  "i^" 

We..nowin,;,b:enrarp-S.t 

4Xtrndr:::^r^fo-an 

to  her,  when  his  own  W  "«  t     '™"  4"^'^ 
/y-  -ad,  to  overflo^^hr .''"^^'  ""'  "^ 

w"  uome,     he  wonM  aor.    */_ 

""J  I      we 


y 


THE  CANADIAN   CRUSOES. 


05 


Catharine 
'  had  n6t 
lould  not 
us  and  so 
ttle-path  ; 
only  of 
it^es,  and 
"on,  such 
>  gather- 
T  butter- 
pleas  upQ 
counsels 
th  thej 
thorns  ; 
'ere  un- 
'hem  to 
ips  the 
•  upon 
t,  who 
ors  in 

to  all 

ite  his 

Day, 

^ajly 

1  hi8 

ithe 
we 


might  spend  our  time  most  happily  upon  these 
charming  plains;  it  is  much  more  delightful 
here  than  in  the  dark,  thick  woods ;  see  how 
brightly  the  sunbeams  come  down  and  gladden 
the  ground,  and  cover  the  earth  with  fruit  and 
flowers.  It  is  pleasant  to  be  able  to  fish  and 
hunt,  and  trap  the  game.  Yes,  if  they  were  all 
here,  we  would  build  us  a  nice  log-house,  and 
clear  up  these  bushes  on  the  flac  near  the  lake. 
This  'Elfin  Knowe,'  as  you  call  it,  Kate,  would 
be  a  nice  spot  to  build  upon.  See  these  glori- 
ous old  oaks ;  not  one  should  be  cut  down,  anCi 
we  should  have  a  boat  and  a  canoe,  and  voyage 
across  to  yonder  islands.  "Would  it  not  be 
charming,  ma  belle  ?"  and  Catharine,  smiling  at 
the  picture  drawn  so  eloquently,  ^^-ould.  enter 
into  the  spirit  of  the  project,  and  say, — 

"  Ah !  Louis,  that  would  be  pleasant." 

"If  we  had  but  my  father's  rifle  now,"  said 
Hector,  "  and  old  Wolfe." 

"  Yes,  and  Fanchette,  dear  little  Fanchette, 
that  trees  the  partridges  and  black  squirrels," 
said  Louisy' 

" I  saVa  doe  and  a  half-grown  fawn  beside 
her  this  very  morning,  at  break  of  day,"  said 
Hector.  "  The  fawn  was  so  little  fearful,  that 
if  I  had  had  a  stick  in  my  hand,  I  could  have 
killed  it.    I  came  within  ten  yards  of  the  spot 

nr'Kava    i+    at/v-»/1         T    l?ni/\\Br    if    xirrknl/l     Ko    aapir  \jr\ 


96 


IHE  OANAWAH  0BP30ES. 


«.toh  one  by  making  a  dead-faU."    [A  sort  of 
rap  m  which  game  is  taken  in  the  woods,  or  on 

the  banks  of  creeks.] 

„."r^  "7/"^  ^''i  ^  ^"^"  ^^^°  to  frolic  about 
us  like  Mignon,  dear  innocent  Mignon  "  cr^d 

Cathanne,"Ishould  never  feel  lonfljthen" 
And  we  should  never  want  for  meat  if  wa 

^uHca^h  a  fine  fawn  from  time  to  2;f:: 

"  Heo,  what  are  you  thinking  of?" 
"I  was  thinking,  Louis,  that  if  we  were 
doomed  to  remain  here  all  our  lives,  we  must 
buUd  a  house  for  ou^elves,-  we  could  n^tTe 

done.  The  summer  wUI  soon  pass,  and  the 
rainy  season  will  come,  and  the  bi  ter  frosS 
ancl^snows  of  winter  will  have  ,„  be  pJS 

"  But,  Hector,  do  you  really  think  there  is  no 
^ance  of  finding  our  way  back  to  Cold  Spring? 
We^know  It  must  be  behind  thia  lake,"  sdd 

"  True,  but  whether  east,  west,  or  south  we 

.s  but  a  chance,  and  if  once  we  leave  the  lakl 
and  get  involved  in  the  mazes  of  thai  dark 
forest,  we  should  perish,  for  we  know  there  t 

as  there  is  here,  and  we  might  be  soon  .t,^^ 


[A  sort  of 
oods,  or  on 

folic  about 
ion,"  cried 
Y  then." 
neat,  if  we 
>  time,  ma 


we  were 
I  we  must 
I  not  live 
we  have 
and  the 
ter  frosts 
provided 

ere  is  no 
Springs  ? 
ce,"  said 

3uth,  we 
like  now 
;he  lake 
al  dark 
there  is 
be  had 

AfSkTrrtxA 
— '■^"^  r  \j\Jk 


THE  CATjTADIAN  CRUSOES. 


»7 


to  ileatli.    God  was  good  who  led  us  beside  thia 
fine  lake,  and  upon  these  fruitful  plains." 

"  It  is  a  good  thing  that  I  had  my  axe  when 
we  started  from  home,"  said  Hector.  "We 
should  not  have  been  so  well  off  without  it;  we 
shall  find  the  use  of  it  if  we  have  to  build  a 
house.  We  must  look  out  for  some  spot  where 
there  is  a  spring  of  good  water,  and — " 

"  No  horrible  wolves,"  interrupted  Catharine : 
"  though  I  love  this  pretty  ravine,  and  the  banks 
and  braes  about  us,  I  do  not  think  I  shall-  like 
to  stay  here.  I  heard  the  wolves  only  last  night, 
when  you  and  Louis  were  asleep." 

"  We  must  not  forget  to  keep  watch-fires." 

"  What  shall  we  do  for  clothes  ?"  said  Catha- 
rine, glancing  at  her  home-spun  frock  of  wool 
and  cotton  plaid. 

"A  weighty  consideration,  indeed,"  sighed 
Hector ;  • "  clothes  must  be  provided  before  ours 
are  worn  out,  and  the  winter  comes  on." 

"  We  must  save  all  the  skins  of  the  wood- 
chucks  and  squirrels,"  suggested  Louis ;  "  and 
fawns  when  we  catch  them." 

"  Yes,  and  fawns  when  we  get  them,"  added 
Hoctor;  "but  it  is  time  enough  to  think  of  all 
these  things ;  we  must  not  give  up  all  hope  of 
home." 

"  I  give  up  all  hope  ?    I  shall  hope  on  while 
I  have  life,"  said  Catharine.    "  My  dear,  dear 
9 


»8 


THE  CANADIAN  CRUSOES. 


father,  he  will  never  forget  hU  lost  chUdren ;  h. 
will  try  and  find  us,  alive  or  dead;  he  will  never 
give  up  the  search." 

Poor  child,  how  long  did  this  hope  burn  like 
•living  torch  in  thy  guileless  breast  I  How 
onen,  as  they  roamed  those  hills  and  valleys 

of  the  dark  ravmes  and  thick  bushes,  with  the 
hope  that  they  would  meet  the  advancing  form 
and  outstretched  arms  of  thy  earthly  parents! 
all  in  vam-yet  the  arms  of  thy  heavenly  Fa- 
ther we.  e  extended  over  thee,  to  guide,  to  guard, 
and  to  sustain  thee.  ' 

How  often  were  Catharine's  hands  filled  with 
wild-flowers,  to  car^r  home,  as  she  fondly  said, 

how  often  did  your  bouquets  fade;  howofej 
did  the  sad  exile  water  them  with  her  tears- 

wtr  "^  ""  ^°^  *''"'  '^^^P^  ^'^«  despair 
When  they  roused  them  in  the  morning  to 
recommence   their   fruitless  wanderings,   fhey 

rtr  .''"'' °"''''  "P-t»P^westai  Z 
our  father-he  may  find  us  here  to-day ;"  but 
evening  came,  and  stUl  he  came  not,  an^  they 

C  k!°  "l"";  ""  ""''  ^^'^'''' ''°°'«  *an  they 
had  been  the  day  previous.  ^ 

"If  we  could  but  find  our  way  back  to  the 

Cold  Creek,'  we  might,  by  following  its  course. 

return  to  Cold  Springs,"  said  Hector  ^ 


fi 


r 


Idren;  ho 
will  never 

burn  like 
1 1  How 
1  valleys, 
Y  recesses 
with  the 
5ing  form 
parents  I 
^enly  Fa- 
to  guard, 

led  with 
dlj  said, 
itharine, 
>w  often 
tears,— 
espair. 
ning  to 
8,   they 
lall  see 
r ;"  but 
id  they 
m  they 

to  the 
course^ 


fj 


THE  CANADIAN  CRUSOES.  99 

"I  doubt  much  the  fact  of  the  'Cold  Creek' 
having  any  connection  with  our  Spring,"  said 
Louis ;  "  I  think  it  has  its  rise  in  the  '  Beaver 
Meadow,'  and  following  its  course  would  only 
entangle  us  among  those  wolfish  balsam  and  ce- 
dar swamps,  or  lead  us  yet  further  astray  into 
the  thick  recesses  of  the  pine  forest.  For  my 
part,  I  believe  wa  are  already  fifty  miles  from 
Cold  Springs." 

It  is  one  of  the  bewildering  mistakes  that  all 
persons  who  lose  their  way  in  the  pathless  woods 
fall  into,  they  have  no  idea  of  distance,  or  the 
points  of  the  compass,  unless  they  can  see  the 
sun  rise  and  set,  which  is  not  possible  to  do 
when  surrounded  by  the  dense  growth  of  forest- 
trees  ;  they  rather  measure  distance  by  the  time 
they  have  been  wandering,  than  by  any  other 
token. 

The  children  knew  that  they  had  been  a  long 
time  absent  from  home,  wandering  hither  and 
thither,  and  they  fancied  their  journey  had  been 
as  long  as  it  had  been  weary.  They  had  indeed 
the  comfort  of  seeing  the  ^'in  in  his  course  from 
ea§t  to  west,  but  they  knew  not  in  what  direc- 
tion the  home  they  had  lost  lay ;  it  was  this 
that  troubled  them  in  their  choice  of  the  course 
they  should  take  each  day,  and  at  last  deter- 
mined them  to  lose  no  more  time  so  fruitlessly, 
wViATA  the  n«ril  was  so  crreat.  but  seek  for  somo 

J .. —     --    o         -   » 


% 


100  _  TrTE   CAXADIAK   CR0SOES. 

pleasant  spot  where  they  might  pass  their  time 
in  safety,  and  provide  for  their  present  and  fu- 
tur»  wants. 

"  TJ.  ,„rtd  w„  Jl  before  th.™,  ,h,„  ,„  ,k„„. 
Th.lr  pl«c»  of  rot,  „d  Provid,„08  their  goido." 

Catharine  declared  her  ankle  was  so  much 

her  health  so  mneh  amended,  that  the  day  afler 
the  conv«.^t,on  just  recorded,  the  little  party 
bade  farewell  to  the  valley  of  the  "Big  Stone  " 
and  ascending  the  steep  sides  of  the  hills,  be,;t 
their  steps  e^tward,  keeping  the  lake  to  their 
eft  hand  Hector  led  the  ,ay,  loaded  with 
the,r  household  utensils,  which  consisted  onirof 

him^lf,  the  tm-pot,  and  the  birch  basket.   Loui, 
had  his  cousin  to  assist  up  the  steep  banks  like- 

ryr.^eto:^^"'"^^^'-"^-^' 

The  wanderers  thought  at  first  to  explore  the 
ground  near  the  lake  shore,  but  soon  abandon^ 
this  res<JuUop,  on  finding  the  undar-growth  o7 
^3  and  bushes  become  so  thick,  That  thj 
made  httle  progress;  and  the  fatigue  of  travel 

to™,rr!u^u°T'^''''y''"'"S<'™«naally 
to  put  aside  the  bushes  or  bend  them  down 

Hector  advised  trying  the  higher  ground- 
«id  after  following  a  deer-path  through  a  ^ll 


THS   CANADIAN   CRUSOES. 


lOx 


their  time 
nt  and  fu. 


hoose 
■uide." 

80  much 
ident,  and 

day  after 
fctle  party 
g  Stone," 
tills,  bent 

to  their 
3ed  with 
i  only  of 

one  but 
t.  Lcmis 
iks,  like- 
a  caught 

•lore  the 
mdoned 
)wth  of 
at  they 
'  travel- 
tinually 
wn. 
ground  ; 


ravine  that  crossed  the  hills,  they  found  them- 
selves  on  a  fine  extent  of  table-land,  richly,  but 
not  too  densely  wooded  with  white  and  black 
oaks,  diversified  with  here  and  there  a  solitary 
pine,  which  reared  its  straight  and  pillar-like 
trunk  in  stately  grandeur  above  its  leafy  com- 
panions; a  meet  eyrie  for  the  bald-eagle  that 
kept  watch  from  its  dark  crest  over  the  silent 
waters  of  the  lake,  spread  below  like  a  silver 
zone  studded  with  emeralds. 

In  their  progress,  they  passed  the  bead  of 
many  small  ravines,  which  divided  the  hilly 
ehores  of  the  lake  into  deep  furrows.  These  fur- 
rows had  once  been  channels,  by  which  the 
waters  of  some  upper  lake  (the  site  of  which  is 
now  dry  land)  had  at  a  former  period  poured 
down  into  the  valley,  filling  the  basin  of  what 
now  is  called  the  Kice  liake.  These  waters  with 
resistless  course  had  ploughed  their  way  between 
tbo  hills,  bearing  in  their  course  those  blocks  of 
granite  ai.  a  limestone  which  are  so  widely  scat 
tered  both  on  the  hill-tops  and  the  plains,  or 
form  a  rocky  pavement  at  the  bottom  of  the 
narrow  defiles.  What  a  sight  of  sublime  deso- 
lation must  that  outpouring  of  the  waters  have 
presented,  when  those  steep  banks  were  riven 
by  the  sweeping  torrents  that  were  loosened 
from  their  former  bounds  I     The  pleased  eye 

roof  a     11  if\f\r\     4- n  ooa     +th»  t*  r<  ii  1 1     on  r\i»oa      n  r\w     t%nxrg\r*jari 


102 


THE   CAXADIAX   CRUSOES. 


\-i\ 


With  oaks  and  pines,  or  waving  with  a  flood  of 
golden  grain,  or  varied  bj  neat  dwellings  and 
fruitful  gardens ;  and  the  gazer  on  that  peaceful 
scene  scarcely  pictures  to  himself  what  it  must 
have  been  when  no  living  eye  was  thereto  mark 
the  rushing  floods,  when  they  scooped  to  them- 
selves  the  deep  bed  in  which  they  now  repose. 

Those  lovely  islands  that  sit  like    stately 
crowns  upon  the  waters,   were  doubtless  the 
wreck  that  remained  of  the  valley ;  elevated 
spots,  whose  rocky  basis  withstood  the  force  of 
the  rushing  waters,  that  carried  away  the  lighter 
portions  of  the  soil.    The  southern  shore,  seen 
from  the  fake,  seems  to  lie  in  regular  ridges  run 
ning  from  south  to  north ;  some  few  are  parallel 
with  the  lake-shore,  possibly  where  some  insur 
mountable  impediment  turned  the  current  of  the 
subsiding  waters;  but  they  all  find  an  outlet 
through  their  connection  with  ravines  communi- 
cating with  the  lake. 

There  is  a  beautiful  level  tract  of  land,  mth 
only  here  and  there  a  solitary  oak  growing  upon 
It,  or  a  few  stately  pines ;  it  is  commonly  called 
the  "upper  Race-course,"  merely  on  account  of 
the  smoothness  of  the  surface;  it  forms  a  high 
table-land,  nearly  three  hundred  feet  above  the 
lake,  and  is  surrounded  by  high  hills.  This 
spot,  though  now  dry  and  covered  with  turf  and 
uowers,   and  low  bushes,  has  evidently  once 


ssHfBfsasmmi 


THE  CAJ^ADIAN   CRUS0E9. 


108 


a  flood  of 
llings  and 
it  peaceful 
at  it  must 
re  to  mark 

to  them- 
■  repose, 
e   stately 
)tless   the 

elevated 
5  force  of 
le  lighter 
ore,  seen 
3ges  run 
3  parallel 
ne  insur 
jntof  the 
an  outlet 
ommuni- 

ad,  ^th 
ingupon 
Ij  called 
3ount  of 
s  a  high 
3ove  the 
3.  This 
turf  and 
tly  once 


been  a  broad  sheet  of  water.  To  the  eastward 
Ues  a  still  more  lovely  and  attraeUye  spot, 
knownasthe-lowerKace-coarse-.l^sona 

lower  level  than  the  former  one,  ""d,  'keit,  is 
embanked  by  a  ridge  of  d,stant  klls  i  bo^h 
have  ravines  leading  down  to  the  K,oe  Lake 
and  may  have  been  the  sources  from  whence  its 
Sannd  was  filled.    Some  convulsion  of  nature 
S  a  remote  period,  by  raising  the  waters  above 
their  natural  level,  might  have  ^auaed  a  disrup- 
tion of  the  banks,  end  dram.a  the.  r  beds,  as 
they  now  appear  ready  for  the  P'o»gtshare  or 
the  spade.    In  the  month  of  June  these  flate  are 
brilliant  with  the  splendid  blossoms  of  the  m- 
chroma,  or  painted-cup,  the  azure  lupine  and 
snowy  trimum  roses  scent  the  evemng  air,  and 
grow  as  if  planted  by  the  hand  of  taste. 

A  carpeting  of  the  small  downy  saxi&age* 
with  its  white  sUky  leaves  covers  the  g™«^d  m 
early  spring.    In  the  fall,  it^is  red  with  «ie 
bnght  berries  and  dark,  boi-shaped  leav^  of  a 
species  of  creeping  winter-green,  that  the  In- 
dians call  spieeberry;  the  leaves  are  highly 
aromatic,  and  it  is  medicinal  as  well  as  agree- 
able to  the  taste  and  smell.    In  the  month  of 
Julv  a  gorgeous  assemblage  of  martagon  lilies 
take  the  place  of  the  lupine  and  trilUums ;  these 


1(H 


THE   OAXADIAX   CRUSOES. 


splendid  lilies  vary  from  orange  to  the  brightest 
scarlet;  various  species  of  sunflowers  and  core- 
opsts  next  appear,   and  elegant  white  p^rolas* 
scent  the  air  and  charm  the  eye.     The  delicate 
i-ac  and  white  shrubby  asters  next  appear,  and 
these  are  followed  by  the  large,  deep  blue  gen- 
tian,  and  here  and  there  by  the  elegant  fringed 
gentoan.t    These  are  the  latest  and  loveliest  of 
the  flowers  that  adorn  this  tract  of  land     It  ia 
indeed  a  garden  of  nature's  own  planting,  but 
the  wild  garden  is  being  converted  into  fields 
of  gram,  and  the  wild  flowers  give  place  to  a 
new  race  of  vegetables,  less  ornamental,   but 
more  useful  to  man  and  the  races  of  domestic 
animals  that  depend  upon  him  for  their  sud- 
port.  *^ 

Our  travellers,  aiter  wandering  over  this  lovely 
plain,  found  themselves,  at  the  close  of  the  day 
at  the  head  of  a  fine  ravine,^  where  they  had 
the  good  fortune  to  perceive  a  spring  of  pure 
water,  oozing  beneath  some  large  moss-covered 
bloci3  of  black  water-worn  granite ;  the  ground 
was  thickly  covered  with  moss  about  the  edges 
of  the  spnng,  and  maqy  varieties  of  flowering 
shrubs  and  fruits  were  scattered  along  the  val- 
ley  and  up  the  steep  sides  of  the  surrounding 

*  Pyrolarotundifolia,  P.asarifolia. 
f  Gontiana  luiearis,  G.  orenata. 
^         1  Kilvert's  Ravine,  above  Pine-tree  Point. 


•  ^ 


THE  CANADIAN  CRUSOES. 


105 


5  brightest 
i  and  core* 
3  'pyrolas* 
le  delicate 
»pear,  and 
blue  gen* 
It  fringed 
i^eliest  of 
id.    It  ia 
iting,  but 
ito  fields 
lace  to  a 
ital,  but 
domestio 
aeir  sup- 
is  love! J 
the  day, 
hej  had 
of  pure 
covered 
ground 
e  edges 
)wering 
the  val- 
•undmg 


hills     There  were  whortleberries,  or  huckleber- 
ries/as  they  are  more  usually  called,  in  abun- 
dance ;  bilberries  dead  ripe,  and  falling  from  the 
bushes  at  a  touch.    The  vines  that  wreathed 
the  low  bushes  and  climbed  the  trees  were  load- 
ed with  clusters  of  grapes,  but  these  were  yet 
hard  and  green;  dwarf  filberts  grew  on  the  dry 
gravelly  sides  of  the  hills,  yet  the  rough,  prickly 
calyx  that  enclosed  the  nut,  filled  their  fingers 
with  minute  thorns,  that  irritated  the  skin  like 
the  stings  of  the  nettle ;  but  as  the  kernel  when  , 
ripe  was  sweet  and  good,  they  did  not  mmd  the 
consequences.    The  moist  part  of  the  valley 
was  occupied  by  a  large  bed  of  May-apples,*  the 
fruit  of  which  was  of  unusual  «ize,  but  they 
were  not  ripe,  August  being  the  month  when 
they  ripen;  there  were  also  wild  plums  still 
green,  and  wild  cherries  and  blackberries  ripen- 
ing: there  were  great  numbers  of  the  wood- 
chucks'  burrows  on  the  hills,  while  partridges 
and  quails  were  seen  under  the  thick  covert  of 
the  blue-berried  dog-wood,t  that  here  grew  in 
abundance  at  the  mouth  of  the  ravine  where  it 
opened  to  the  lake.    As  this  spot  offered  many 

•  i>«fo«%Ktw»i)aZ»wto,-Mandrake,  or  May-apple. 

♦  C^L\erkm.  The  blue  berries  of  thia  shrub  are  eaten 
by  the  partridge  and  wild-duoks ;  also  by  the  paeons  ««i<i  other 
birds.    There  are  several  species  of  this  shrub  obmmon  tc  the 

SI T  -Ua 
ICO  XJOCVB  ^ 


106 


THPJ   CANADIAN   CRUSOES. 


advantages,  our  travellers  halted  for  the  night, 
and  resolved  to  make  it  their  head-quarters  for 
a  season,  till  thej  should  meet  with  an  eligible 
situation  for  building  a  winter  shelter. 

Here,  then,  at  the'^ead  of  the  valley,  sheltered 
by  one  of  the  rounded  hills  that  formed  its 
sides,  our  young  people  erected  a  summer  hut, 
somewhat  after  the  fashion  of  an  Indian  wig- 
wam, which  was  all  the  shelter  that  was  requisite 
while  the  weather  remained  so  warm.  Through 
the  opening  at  the  gorge  of  this  ravine  they 
enjoyed  a  peep  at  the  distant  waters  of  the  lake 
which  terminated  the  vista,  while  they  were 
quite  removed  from  its  unwholesome  vapours. 

The  temperature  of  the  air  for  some  days  had 
been  hot  and  sultry,  scarcely  modified  by  the 
cool  delicious  breeze  that  usually  sety  in  about 
nine  o'clock,  and  blows  most  refreshingly  till 
,  four  or  five  in  the  afternoon.     Hector  and  Louis 
had  gone  down  to  fish  for  supper,  while  Catharine 
busied  herself  in  collecting  leaves  and  dried 
deer-grass,  moss,  and  fern,  of  which  there  was 
abundance  near  the  spring.     The   boys   had 
promised  to  cut  some  fresh  cedar  boughs  near 
the  lake  shore,  and  bring  them  up  to  form  a 
foundation  for  their  bed,   and  also  to  strew 
Indian-fashion  over  the  floor  of  the  hut  by  way 
of  a  carpet.     This  sort  of  carpeting  reminds  one 
of  the  times  when  the  palaces  of  the  English 


41    **  9  * 


iSSHHffi 


THK   CANADIAN    CKl'SOKA 


107 


kings  were  strewed  with  rusl.es,  and  brings  to 
mind  the  old  song:— 

..  Oh  I  the  golden  d.ya  of  good  Queen  Bess 
Wherth!  floors  were  Btr.v.Mwth^^ 
And  the  doors  wont  on  the  latch 

*  fi,aT,    vou    my  refined  young 
Despse   not  then,   you,  n^y  >,^  thpse 

carpet  of  cedar  or  hemlook-spruoo  'P"g?  »'^^^° 
%Ly  over  ''■e  -rthe\floor,  w-  -_^t.e» 

;srof ^-  "o^-^-  -  T^ 

:t:2tri V  a  Keap  of  j>-^«^^^»^? 
.rr^naed  was  to  them  as  pleasant  as  beds  oi 
down  and V  rude  hut  of  bark  and  poles,  as 
mnrtnins  of  silk  or  damask, 
"ng  collected  as  much  of  taesematenalsas 
sttf^I^med  sufficient  for  the  purpose,  Catharine 
„?xt  gathered  up  dry  oak  branches,  plenty  of 
wulh  lay  scatte.^  here  and  there  to  make  a 
:S-&e  for  the  night,  and  ^^^^'^^ 
Id  warm,  she  sat  down  on  a  little  hdloc^ 
teneTth  thL  cooling  shade  of  a  grove  of  young 
^^et.  that  grew  nearthehut;  pleased  with  th. 


108 


THE   CANADIAX    ClUSOES. 


dancing  of  the  leaves,  which  fluttered  above  her 
head,  and  fanned  her  warm  cheek  with  their 
incessant  motion,  she  thought,  like  her  cousin 
Louise,  that  the  aspen  was  the  merriest  tree  in 
the  forest,  for  it  was  always  dancing,  dancing, 
dancing,  even  when  all  the  rest  were  still. 

She  watched  the  gathering  of  the  distant 
thunder-clouds,  which  cast  a  deeper,  more  sombre 
shade  upon  the  pines  that  girded  the  northern 
shores  of  the  lake  as  with  an  ebon  frame. 
Insensibly  her  thoughts  wandered  far  away 
from  the  lonely  spot  whereon  she  sat,  to  the 
stoup^^in  front  of  her  father's  house,  and  in 
memory's  eye  she  beheld  it  all  exactly  as  sha 
had  left  it.  There  stood  the  big  spinning-wheel, 
just  as  she  had  set  it  aside;  the  hanks  of  dyed 
yam  suspended  from  the  rafters,  the  basket  filled 
with  the  carded  wool  ready  for  her  work.  She 
saw  in  fancy  her  father,  with  his  fine  athletic 
upright  figure,  his  sunburnt  cheeks  and  cluster- 
ing sable  hair,  his  clear,  energetic  hazel  eye  ever 
beaming  upon  her,  his  favourite  child,  with 
looks  of  love  and  kindness  as  she  moved  to  and 
fro  at  her  wheel.f  There,  too,  was  her  mother, 
with  her  light  step  and  sweet,  cheerful  voice, 


*  The  Datflh  word  for  verandah,  which  is  still  in  oommoo 
Qse  among  the  Canadians. 

t  Such  is  the  method  of  working  «t  the  large  weol  wheel, 
Bnkuown  except  in  Obnada. 


■§ 


1  above  her 
with  their 
her  cousin 
iest  tree  in 
ig,  dancing, 
I  still. 

the  distant 
lore  sombre 
le  northern 
bon  frame, 
far  away 
sat,  to  the 
ise,  and  in 
ctly  as  she 
tting-wheel, 
ks  of  dyed 
)asket  filled 
vork.  She 
ine  athletic 
tnd  cluster- 
sel  eye  ever 
jhild,  with 
ved  to  and 
ler  mother, 
ffful  voice, 


ill  in  oommon 
e  w«ol  wheel, 


1  .f 


"»4iii  Vimiimimiipii 


''Of. 


'  ■^v. 


'"^J^-^-^^^.  ^ 


i'fr- 


^■V\.(tJ^  "i^  -«**  "-^S-^-f-***;^*-*:!* 


THE  CANADIAN   0RUSOE9. 


109 


•U6t^ 


m 


amgincr  as  she  parsaed  her  daily  avocations, 
and  Donald  and  Kenneth  driving  up  the  cows 
to  be  milked,  or  chopping  firewood.     And  as 
these  images,  hke  the  figures  of  the  magic 
lantern,  passed  in  all  their  living  colours  before 
her  mental  vision,  her  head  drooped  heavier 
and  lower  till  it  sunk  upon  her  arm,  and  then 
she  started,  looked  round,  and  slept  again,  her 
face  deeply  buried  in  her  young  bosom ;  and 
long  and  peacefully  the  young  girl  slumbered. 

A  sound  of  hurrying  feet  approaches,  a  wild 
iry  is  heard  and  panting  breath,  and  the  sleeper 
with  a  startling  scream  sprang  to  her  feet;  she 
dreamed  that  she  was  struggling  in  the  fangs  of 
ft  wolf— its  grisly  paws  were  clasped  about  her 
throat ;  the  feeling  was  agony  and  suffbcation-- 
her  languid  eyes  open.    Can  it  be  ?— what  is  it 
that  she  sees  ?    Yes,  it  is  Wolfe ;  not  the  fierce 
creature  of  her  dreams  by  night  and  her  fears 
by  day,  but  her  father's  own  brave,  devoted  dog. 
What  joy,  what  hope  rushed  to  her  heart!  She 
threw  herself  upon  the  shaggy  neck  of  thie  faith- 
ful beast,  and  wept  from  the  fulness  of  heart. 

"Yes,"  she  joyfully  cried,  "I  knew  that  I 
should  see  him  again.  My  own  dear,  dear, 
loving  father!  Father!  father!  dear,  dear 
father;  here  are  your  children.  Come,  come 
quickly !"  and  she  hurried  to  the  head  of  the 
valley,  raising  her  voice,  that  the  beloved  parent, 

'lO 


■J 


I      I 


j 


iiii 


110 


THE   CANADIAN   CUUSOES. 


Who  she  now  conlidently  believed  was  ap- 
proaching,  might  be  guided  to  the  spot  by  the 
well-known  sound  of  her  voice. 

Poor  child  I  the  echoes  of  thy  eager  voice, 
prolonged  by  every  projecting  headland  of  the 
valley,  replied  in  mocking  tones,  "  Come 
quickly  I" 

Bewildered  she  paused,  listened  breathlessly 
and  again  she  called,  »  Father,  come  quickly 
come  I  and  again  the  deceitful  sounds  were 
repeated,  "  Quickly  come  1" 

The  faithful  dog,  who  had  succeeded  in  track- 
ing  the  steps  of  his  lost  mistress,  raised  his 
head  and  erected  his  ears,  as  she  called  on  her 
fathers  name;  but  he  gave  no  joyful  bark  of 
recognition  bb  he  was  wont  to  do  when  he  heard 
his  masters  step  approaching.     Still  Catharine 
could  not  but  think  that  Wolfe  had  only  hurried 
on  before,  and  that  her  father  must  be  verv 
near.  -^ 

The  sound  of  her  voice  had  been  heard  by 
her  brother  and  cousin,  who,   oaring  some  evil  " 
beast  had  made  its  way  to  the  wigwam,  hastily 
wound  up  their  line,  and  left  the  fishing-ground 
to  hurry  to  her  assistance.     They  could  hardly 

li' w  t^'^^y^'  ^^«°  ^^^7  saw  Wolfe,  faithful 
old  Wolfe,  their  earliest  friend  and  playfeUow 
named  by  their  father  after  the  gallant  hero  of 
Quebec.    And  they  too,  like  Catharine,  thought 


fl       4 


THE  CANADIAN   CRUS0K9. 


Ill 


that  their  friends  were  not  far  distant,  and  joy- 
fully they  climbed  the  hills  and  shouted  aloud, 
and  Wolfe  was  coaxed  andcaressed,  and  besought 
to  follow  them  to  point  out  the  way  they  should 
take :  but  all  their  entreaties  were  in  vain ;  worn 
out  with  fatigue  and  long  fasting,  the  poor  old 
doo'  refused  to  quit  the  embers  of  the  fire,  before 
which  he  stretched  himself,  and  the  boys  now 
noticed  his  gaunt  frame  and  -/asted  flesh— he 
looked  almost  starved.    The  fact  now  became 
evident  that  he  was  in  a  state  of  great  exhaus- 
tion.    Catharine  thought  he  eyed  the  spring 
with  wishful  looks,  and  she  soon  supplied  him 
with  water  in  the  bark  dish,  to  his  great  re- 

Uef.  .  ^  , . 

Wolfe  had  been  out  for  severd  days  with  his 
master,  who  would  repeat,  in  tones  of  sad  earn- 
estness, to  the  faithful  creature,  "Lost,  lost, 
lost  1"    It  was  his  custom  to  do  so  when  the 
cattle  strayed,  and  Wolfe  would  travel  in  all 
directions  till  he  found  them,  nor  ceased  his 
search  till  he  discovered  the  objects  he  was 
ordered  to  bring  home.     The  last  night  of  the 
father's  wanderings,  when,  sick  and  hopeless, 
he  came  back  to  his  melancholy  home,  as  he  sat 
sleeplessly  rocking  himself  to  and  fro,  he  in- 
voluntarily   exclaimed,    wringing    his    liands, 
"Lost,  lost,  lostl"    Wolfe  heard  what  to  him 
was  ah  imperative  command;  he  rose,  and  stood 


112 


fl 


ran  c'anaiiia.v  I'Htrsora 


at  the  d.nr,  and  whined ;  mechanically  his  ma» 
tor  rose,  hltcd  the  Ia.-.h,  ami  again  e.eW  ned^ 

the  faithful  messenger  forth  into  the  dark  fi.rest 
path.     Once  on  the  trail  he  never  left  it,  bu 
wuh  an  jnstmct  incomprehensible  as  it  w^ 
powerful,  he  continued  to  track  the  wood    hn 
gcnng  long  on  spots  where  the  wandeTrs  1  ad 
eft  any  s.gns  of  their  sojourn ;  he  had  for  so  „e 
■me  been  baffled  at  the  Beaver  Meadow  and 
agam  where  they  had  crossed  Cold  ^1'  b  u 

valley  of  the  "Big  Stone,"  and  then  with  th! 
«agac;ty  of  the  bloodhound  and  the  ^^ctou 

obi  ct  o/r  '^  ""'■■  "'  '-'■  discove^d 
seS  """"""■  "'°"S''  °^''  baffled 

What  a  state  of  excitement  did  the  unex 
pected  arrival  of  old  Wolfe  create  I   How  manJ 

Srt  "T  P"'  *"  *«  P°"  beas  "rhT  ay 
mtl^  Car-"^'r'''''''"«"°^"^'-ing 
mistress      Catharwe  knew  it  was  foolish   h,,^ 

as  If  he  had  been  conversant  with  her  own  Ian 

could  but  have  mterp)  .ted  those  exp.  ,.„„ 

Lut  tT  '''?"™'  ""^^'"^  of  your' oushy  , 
tail,  as  It  flapped  upon  the  grass,  or  waved  from 

«detos.de,  those  gentle  lickin'gs  of  tie  haZ 


^ 


p-^;  i^g-IW  waWTillWQflWI 


^BP 


5K1 


THE  CANADIAN    TRUSOES. 


118 


^nd  mute  sorrowful  glances,  aa  though  be  would 
Tave  said,  "  D.M.r  mistress,  I  know  aP  your  trou- 
blcs.     I  know  all  you  say,  but  I  cannot  answer 
voul"     l^ere   is   something   touching   m  the 
silent  sympathy  of  the  dog,  to  which  only  the 
hard-hearted  and  depraved  can  be  qm  e  msen- 
.  ble      I  remember  once  hearmg  of  a  felon  who 
had  shown  the  greatest  obstinacy  and  callous 
indifference  to  the  appeals  of  his  relations,  and 
the  clergyman   that  attended  bim^^  P"«^"' 
whose  heart  was  softened  by  the  sight  of  a  httle 
dog,  that  had  been  his  companion  in  his  days  ot 
comparative  innocence,  forcing  its  way  through 
the  crowd,  till  it  gained  the  foot  of  the  gallows , 
ita  mute  look  of  anguish  and  affection  unlocked 
the  fount  of  human  feeling,  and  the  condemned 
man  wept-perhaps  the  first  t^ars  he  bad  shed 
since  childhood's  happy  days.  . 

The  night  closed  in  with  a  tempest  of  almost 
tropical  violence.  The  inky  darkness  of  the 
sky  was  relieved,  at  intervals,  by  sheets  of  lurid 
flame,  which  revealed,  by  its  intense  brightness, 
every  object  far  off  or  near.  The  distant  lake, 
just  seen  amid  the  screen  of  leaves  through  the 
gorgv,  of  the  valley,  gleamed  like  a  sea  of  molten 
sulphur ;  the  deep,  narrow  defile,  shut  in  by  the 
steep  and  wooded  hills,  looked  deeper,  naora 
wild  and  gloomy,  when  revealed  by  that  vivid 

glare  of  light. 
10» 


114 


TIJK   CANADIAN   CRUSOICS. 


r„,!^  7         ""  ''""  """"'S  'he  trees,  the  heavy 
rounded  masses  of  foliage  remained  unmoved 
the  verj  aspen,  that  tremulous  sensitive  tree' 
scarce ly  stirred ;  it  seemed  as  if  the  very  puta 
of  nature  were  at  rest.     The  solemn  murm^ 

likened  to  the  moanmg  of  the  dying.  The 
eh^dren  felt  the  loneliness  of  the  sp^ot. '  Seated 
at  he  entrance  of  their  sylvan  hut,  in  front  of 
which  their  evenmg  fire  burned  brightly,  they 
looked  out  upon  the  storm  in  silefee  and  in 
awe.    Screened  by  the  sheltering  shrutethl" 

IZr:  '''"■  ""^y  ''''  compLtive;  safe 
from  the  dangers  of  the  storm,  which  now  bum 
m  terrific  violence  above  the  Galley.    Cbud  an 

Wd  1 ''""''  r "^  "'^  ^""-"^  of'ihe  hms  p- 
IZk       T"'^'  ^"""^  ^^'t^-^d  trunks  and 
brutle  branches  filled  the  air,  and  shrieked  and 
groaned  m  that  wild  war  of  elements 
Between  the  pauses  of  the  tempest  the  lone 

distant  cedar  swamp  at  the  edge  of  the  lake 
might  be  heard  from  time  to  time-a  s™„^' 
that  always  thrilled  their  hearts  ^h  fear  "^J 
the  mighty  thunder-peal  that  burst  above  thdr 
heads  they  listened  with  awe  and  wonder  I 
•eemed,  indeed,  to  them  as  if  it  were  the  voice 
of  Him  who  "sendeth  out  his  voice,  yea  and 
that  a  mighty  voice."    And  thev  b^J'.'  !h 


THE   CANADIAN'    CKU30ES. 


115 


adored  bis  majesty;  but  they  sh  ank  with  cur- 
died  blood  from  the  cry  of  the /e?on  wolf. 

And  now  the  storm  was  at  its  chmax,  and 
the  hail  and  rain  came  down  in  a  whitemng 
flood  upon  that  ocean  of  forest  leaves ;  the  old 
aver  branches  were  lifted  up  and  down,  and  the 
ftout  trunks  rent,  for  they  would  not  bow  down 
before  the  furv  of  the  whirlwind,  and  were  scat- 
tered  all  abroad  like  chaff  before  the  wmd 

The  children  thought  not  of  danger  for  them- 
selves, but  they  feared  for  the  safety  of  their 
fathers,  whom  they  believed  to  be  not  far  off 
from  them.  And  often  'mid  the  raging  of  the 
elements  they  fancied  they  could  distinguish 
familiar  voices  calling  upon  their  names  it 
our  father  had  not  been  near,  Wolfe  would  not 

have  come  hither."  •  ■.    j  • 

"Ah  if  our  father  should  have  perished  m 
this  fearful  storm,"  said  Catharine,  weepmg, 
"or  have  been  starved  to  death  while  seeking 
for  us!"  and  Catharine  covered  her  face  and 
wept  more  bitterly. 

But  Louis  would  not  listen  to  such  melan- 
choly forebodings.  Their  fathers  were  both 
brave,  hardy  men,  accustomed  to  every  sort  ot 
danger  and  privation;  they  were  able  to  take 
care  of  themselves.  Yes,  he  was  sure  they  were 
not  far  off;  it  was  this  unlucky  storm  coming 
-^  +v,of  u^A  nrfivftnted  them  from  meeting. 


116 


Ml 


'THE  CASAinAX  CRUSOES. 


i'3  master,  and  then-^hyi;,  r  ,      '^     ^"^ 

dear  father  will  be  with  you^  Th.  '^  ■!?{  "^ 

token  good  heed  to  the  tfal.  J    -^  7'"  '"'™ 

«ee  our  dear  mothe^  anS        *'  ''"'"  ^"'^'^ 

The  storm  lasted  ti  1  p^tt-ff  ^°'"--" 

gradually  subsided    anUL         ="''''  '''^"'  '* 

were  glad  to  see  aJ         ,   ^  P°°''  ^nderers 

f  e  stL  pirnroScr  r  "^'  -'» 

but  thevwere  r.^,.    j  '''°'^™  "asses ; 

and  their  gaS^e^n^;:; 'r  *f  ""'«hut, 
Howerer,  the  bov,  1^      drenched  with  rain. 

bark  and  bougtel'  f -^"^  '"^  ^"^  ^-"e 

■  a  few  sparks  fnttSl?'""'  *^"  -- 
and  this  they  glX  tf  ^  ^^  '"'^^'"'guished, 

with  which  fhefdriedT  "P  '"'"  "  "'"^^ 
warmed  themsefv^'^Tle  '^  ""  °'°"''^'  ^"-l 
almost  to  chilliness    .tT  f      "^  ""^  <=°°1 

weather  remaine^dt^setdtd  TndT  ^^  '"« 
fas'  with  eJouds,  while  th.  ,  t  ""^  °'^''- 
leaden  hue,  crestekli  h  IL         ■'"'""'^  " 

They  soon  set  to  work  tot  T'""'^"^^^- 
and  found,  close  to  Zhead  .f ',r°"^-  ''•"• 
«jeat  pine  uprooted,  affording  the  'h  """''  " 
of  bark,    which    proved   vl^^P""''^ 

'■matching  the  sides'Xh'Zrr,'"^'" 


^lli' 


THE  CANADIAN   CRUSOES. 


117 


a  gloriou3 
ul  one  too, 
e  will  find 
re  say  my 
will  havo 
shall  sooQ 
JJouise." 
t,  when  it 
vandurers 
1  off,  and 
1  masses  ; 
tate,  the 
ittle  hut, 
ith  rain, 
ith  some 
5re  were 
?uished, 
i  blaze, 
es,  and 
w  cool 
ijs  the 
i^  over- 
nted  a 
ves. 
3r  hut, 
nne,  a 
pieces 
>Ie  in 


i 


ployed  themselves  in  this  work,  while  Catharine 
cooked  the  fish  they  had  caught  the  night 
before,  with  a  share  of  which  old  Wolfe  seemed 
to  be  mightily  well  pleased.    After  they  had 

breakfasted,  they  all  went  up  to^^^^/^^^^ 
table-land  above  the  ravine,  with  Wolfe,  to  look 
round  in  hope  of  getting  sight  of  tbeir Jriends 
from  Cold  Springs,  but  though  they  kept  an 
anxious  look-out  in  every  direction,  they  re- 
turned, towards  evening,   tired  and  hopeless. 
Hector  had  killed  a  red  squirrel,  and  a  par- 
tridge which  Wolfe   "treed,"-that  IS    stood 
barking  at  the  foot  of  the  tree  in  which  it  had 
perched,-and  the  supply  of  meat  was  a  season 
able  change.     They  also  noticed,  and  marked 
with  the  axe,  several  trees  where  there  were 
bees,  intending  to  come  in  the  cold  weather 
and  cut  them  down.    Louis's  father  was  a  great 
and  successful  bee-hunter;    and  Louis   rather 
prided  himself  on  having  learned  something  ot 
his  father's  skill  in  that  line.     Here,   where 
flowers  were  so  abundant  and  water  plentiful, 
the   wild  bees  seemed  to  be  abundant  also ; 
besides,  the  open  space  between  the  trees,  ad- 
•    mitting  the  warm  sunbeam  freely,  was  favour 
able  both  for  the  bees  and  the  flowers  on  which 
they  fed,  and  Louis  talked  joyfully  of  the  fine 
stores  of  honey  they  should  collect  in  ^e  fall. 
—    ,     •■   T-x  \u^■^^  TPor.f.linn    a  small  J^r'jnCu 


118 


THE   CAXADIAN   CRUSOES 


/;Tft 


spaE.eI  of  his  father's,  to  find  out  the  treea 
where  the  bees  hived,  ard  also  the  nesJo   the 
ground  bees,  and  she  would  bark  at  the  f^o 
of  the  tree    or  scratch  with  her  feet  on  the 
ground,  as  the  other  dogs  barked  at  the  squirrels 
or  the  woodchaoks;  but  Fanchon  was  far  away 
and  Wolfe  was  old,  and  would  learn  no  ntw 
tncks  soLou,s  knew  he  had  nothing  but  h^ 
own  observation  and  the  axe  to  depfnd  upon 
for  procuring  honey.  ^ 

The  boys  had  been  unsuccessful  for  some 
days  past  m  fishing;  neither  perch  nor  sunflsh 
mk  roach  nor  mud-pouts,*  were  to  be  caught 
However,  they  found  water-mussels  by  gronint 
n  the  sand,  and  crayfish  among  the  gfave  a° 
he  edge  of  the  water  only;  the  last'pL Ld 
their  finger,  very  spitefully.     The  mussels  were 
not  very  palatable,  for  want  of  salt;  but  hungry 
folk,  must  not  be  dainty,  and  Louis  declaS 
them  very  good  when  well  roasted,  covered  up 
with  hot  embers.     "The  fishhawks,"  said  he 
set  us  a  good  example,  for  they  eat  them,  and 
60  do  the  eagles  and  herons.    I  watched  one  the 
other  day  with  a  mussel  la  hi.  bill;  he  flew  to 
a  h.gh  tree,  let  his  prey  fall,  and  immedilTe ly 
toed  down  to  secure  it;  but  I  drove  him  off 
«nd,  to  my  great  amusement,  perceived  the  wis? 
^I  «.«e  8.1.  „e  tadigoaou,  to  a,   f„.t  „,^„  ,„ 


■iimwii,!!   LMLMWIil! 


THE  CANADIAN   CRUSOES. 


119 


the  treea 
ests  of  the 
t  the  foot 
3t  on  the 
s  squirrels 
far  away, 
n  no  new 
?  but  his 
end  upon 

for  some 
r  sunfish, 
i  caught. 

groping 
gravel  at 

pinched 
>els  were 

hungry 
declared 
ered  up 
said  he, 
im,  and 
one  the 
flew  to 
diateiy 
lim  off, 
be  wis? 

aters   tf 


fellow  had  just  let  it  fall  on  a  stone,  which  had 
sjracked  the  shell  for  him  just  in  the  right  place. 
I  often  see  shells  lying  at  the  foot  of  trees,  far 
up  the  hills,  where  these  birds  must  have  left 
them.  There  is  one  large  thick-shelled  mussel, 
that  I  have  found  several  times  with  a  round 
hole  drilled  through  the  shell,  just  as  if  it  had 
been  done  with  a  small  auger,  doubtless  the  work 
of  some  bird  with  a  strong  beak." 

"Do  you  remember,"  said  Catharine,  "the 
fine  pink  mussel-shell  that  Hec  picked  up  ir 
the  little  corn-field  last  year  ?  it  had  a  hole  i. 
one  of  the  shells  too,*  and  when  my  uncle  sav 
it,  he  said  it  must  have  been  dropped  by  some 
large  bird,  a  fishhawk  possibly,  or  a  heron,  and 
brought  from  the  great  lake,  as  it  had  been  taken 
out  of  some  deep  water,  the  mussels  in  our  creeka 
being  quite  thin-shelled  and  white." 

"  Do  you  remember  what  a  quantity  of  large 
fish  bones  we  found  in  the  eagle's  nest  on  the 
top  of  our  hill,  Louis  ?"  said  Hector. 

"  I  do ;  those  fish  must  have  been  larger  than 
our  perch  and  sunfish  ;  they  were  brought  from 
this  very  lake,  I  dare  say." 

*  This  ingenious  mode  of  oraclring  the  shells  of  mnssels  ia 
common  to  many  birds.  The  crow  ((hrvug  corone)  has  been 
long  known  by  American  naturalists  to  break  the  thick  shells 
of  the  river  mussels,  by  letting  them  fall  from  a  height  on  to 
rooks  dnd  stouett. 


120 


THE   CANADIAN   CRUSOES. 


*'  If  we  had  a  good  canoe  now,  or  a  boat,  and 
a  strong  hook  and  line,  we  might  become  great 
fishermen." 

"  Louis,"  said  Catharine,  "  is  always  thinking 
about  canoes,  and  boats,  and  skiffs ;  he  ought  to 
have  been  a  sailor." 

Louis  was  confident  that  if  they  had  a  canoe 
he  could  soon  learn  to  manage  her ;  he  was  an 
excellent  sailor  already  in  theory.  Louis  never 
saw  difficulties ;  he  was  always  hopeful,  and  had 
a  very  good  opinion  of  his  own  cleverness ;  he 
was  quicker  in  most  things,  his  ideas  flowed 
faster  than  Hector's,  but  Hector  was  more  pru- 
dent, and  possessed  one  valuable  quality— steady 
perseverance;'  he  was  slow  in  adopting  an  opin- 
ion, but  when  once  convinced,  he  pushed  on 
steadily  till  he  mastered  the  subject  or  overcame 
the  obstacle. 

"Catharine,"  said  Louis,  one  day,  "the 
huckleberries  are  now  very  plentiful,  and  I  think 
it  would  be  a  wise  thing  to  gather  a  good  store 
of  them,  and  dry  them  for  the  winter.  See,  ma 
ch^re,  wherever  we  turn  our  eyes,  or  place  our 
feet,  they  are  to  be  found;  the  hill  sides  are 
purple  with  them.  We  may,  for  aught  we  know, 
be  obliged  to  pass  the  rest  of  our  lives  here ;  it 
will  be  well  to  prepare  for  the  winter  when  no 
berries  are  to  be  found." 

itTj.  :ii    U-  _.^11     w^Avt    ni>Mi    Vllif  TWA    rmiiaf.    nnf 

-"XL     W'iii       UC     WC11|     lliVli      OLLUtf     tJ\t,V     TTVf      «*»««•»«•      •«--■•" 


i   ' 


'^w^^'^^JBi 


THE  CANADIAN   ORUSOES. 


121 


r  a  boat,  and 
Decome  great 

ays  thinking 
he  ought  to 

had  a  canoe 
;  he  was  an 
Louis  never 
eful,  and  had 
everness;  he 
ideas  flowed 
as  more  pru- 
ility — steady 
ting  an  opin- 
3  pushed  on 
or  overcame 

day,  "  the 
1,  and  I  think 
a  good  store 
er.  See,  ma 
or  place  our 
bill  sides  are 
^ht  we  know, 
ives  here ;  it 
iter  when  no 


dry  them  in  the  sun ;  for  let  me  tell  you,  Mr. 
Louis,  that  they  will  be  quite  tasteless — mere 
dry  husks." 

"Why  so,  ma  belle?" 

"  I  do  not  know  the  reason,  but  I  only  know 
the  fact,  for  when  our  mothers  dried  the  currants 
and  raspberries  in  the  sun,  such  was  the  case, 
but  when  they  dried  them  on  the  oven  floor,  or 
on  the  hearth,  they  were  quite  nice." 

"  Well,  Cath.,  I  think  I  know  of  a  flat,  thin 
stone  that  will  make  a  good  hearthstone,  and 
we  can  get  sheets  of  birch  bark  and  sew  into 
flat  bags,  to  keep  the  dried  fruit  in." 

They  now  turned  all  their  attention  to  drying 
huckleberries  (or  whortleberries.)*  Catharine 
and  Louis  (who  fancied  nothing  could  be  con- 
trived without  his  help)  attended  to  the  pre- 
paring and  making  of  the  bags  of  birch  bark ; 
but  Hector  was  soon  tired  of  girl's  work,  as  he 
termed  it,  and,  after  gathering  some  berries, 
would  wander  away  over  the  hills  in  search  of 
game,  and  to  explore  the  neighbouring  hills  and 
valleys,  and  sometimes  it  was  sunset  before  he 

*  From  tha  abundance  of  this  frnit,  the  Indians  have  given 
the  name  of  Whortleberry  Plain  to  the  lands  on  the  south  shore. 
During  the  month  of  July  and  the  early  part  of  August,  large 
parties  come  to  the  Rice  Lake  Plains  to  gather  huckleberries, 
which  they  preserve  by  drying,  for  winter  use.  These  berries 
make  a  delicious  taci  or  pudding,  mixed  with  bilberries  and 


rou-Ourfauts,  rs'>^ulfiuy  titud  sugar. 


11 


il 


122 


THE   CANADIAN   CRUS0E3. 


made  his  appearance.  Hector  had  made  an 
excellent  strong  bow,  like  the  Indian  bow,  out 
of  a  tough  piece  of  hickory  wood,  which  he 
found  in  one  of  his  rambles,  and  he  made  arrows 
with  wood  that  he  seasoned  in  the  smoke, 
sharpening  the  heads  with  great  care  with  hia 
knife,  and  hardening  them  by  exposure  to  strong 
heat,  at  a  certain  distance  from  the  fire.  The 
entraDs  of  the  woodchucks,  stretched,  and  scraped 
and  dried,  and  rendered  pliable  by  rubbing  and 
drawing  through  the  hands,  answered  for  a  bow- 
string ;  but  afterwards,  when  they  got  the  sinewa 
and  hide  of  the  deer,  they  used  them,  properly 
dressed  for  the  purpose. 

Hector  also  made  a  cross-bow,  which  he  used 
with    great    effect,   being  a  true   and   steady 
marksman.    Louis  and  he  would  often  amuse 
themselves  with  shooting  at  a  mark,  which  they 
would  chip  on  the  bark  of  a  tree ;  even  Catha- 
rine was  a  tolerable  archeress  with  the  long 
bow,  and  the  hut  was  now  seldom  without  gam6 
of  one  kind  or  other.     Hector  seldom  returned 
from  his  rambles  without  partridges,  quails,  or 
young  pigeons,  which  are  plentiful  at  this  season 
of  the  year;  many  of  the  old  ones  that  pase 
over  in  their  migratory  flight  in  the  spring,  stay 
tc  breed,  or  return    thither  for  acorns   and 
berries  that  are  to  be  found  in  great  abundanca 
Squirrels  too  are  very  plentifuif  at  this  season. 


■i 


THE  CANADIAN   CRUSOES. 


123 


1  made  an 
m  bow,  out 
,  which  he 
lade  arrows 
the  smoke, 
ire  with  hia 
ire  to  strong 
efire.  The 
and  scraped 
•ubbing  and 
id  for  a  bow- 
)t  the  sinewa 
!m,  properly 

aich  he  used 
and   steady 
often  amuse 
:,  which  they 
even  Catha- 
th  the  long 
;rithout  gam^ 
om  returned 
es,  quails,  or 
at  this  season 
es  that  paaa 
B  spring,  stay 
acorns   and 
it  abundanca 
:  this  season. 


Hector  and  Louis  remarked  that  the  red  and 
black  squirrels  never  were  to  be  found  very 
near  each  other.  It  is  a  common  belief,  tha\ 
the  red  squirrels  make  common  cause  with  the 
grey  and  beat  the  larger  enemy  off  the  ground. 
The  black  squirrel,  for  a  succession  of  years, 
was  very  rarely  to  be  met  with  on  the  plains, 
while  there  were  plenty  of  the  red  and  grey  in 
the  "  oak  openings."*  Deer,  at  the  time  our 
young  Crusoes  were  living  on  the  Eice  Lake 
Plains,  were  plentiful,  and,  of  course,  so  were 
those  beasts  that  prey  upon  them, — wolves, 
bears,  and  wolverines,  besides  the  Canadian 
lynx,  or  catamount,  as  it  is  here  commonly 
called,  a  species  of  wild-cat  or  panther.  These 
wild  animals  are  now  no  longer  to  be  seen ;  it 
is  a  rare  thing  to  hear  of  bears  or  wolves,  and 
the  wolverine  and  lynx  are  known  only  as 
matters  of  history  in  this  part  of  the  country ; 
these  animals  disappear  as  civilization  advances, 
while  some  others  increase  and  follow  man, 
especially  many  species  of  birds,  which  seem  to 
pick  up  the  crumbs  that  fall  from  the  rich  man's 
board,  and  multiply  about  his  dwelling ;  some 
adopt  new  habits  and  modes  of  building  and 

*  Within  the  last  three  years,  however,  the  black  squirrels 
have  been  very  numerous,  and  the  red  are  less  frequently  to  b« 
eeen.  The  flesh  of  the  black  squirrel  is  tender,  whit«,  and  del^ 
oite,  like  that  of  a  joung  rabbit. 


«dr 


124 


THE   CANADIAN   CRUSOES. 


feeding,  according  to   the   alteration   and  im« 
proveraent  in  their  circumstances. 

While  our  young  people  seldom  wanted  for 
meat,  they  felt  the  privation  of  the  bread  to 
which  they  had  been  accustomed  very  sensibly. 
One  day,  while  Hector  and  Louis  were  busily 
engaged  with  their  assistant,  Wolfe,  in  unearth- 
ing  a  woodchuck,  that  had  taken  refuge  in  his 
burrow,  on  one  of  the  gravelly  hills  above  the 
lake,  Catharine  amused  herself  by  looking  for 
flowers.     She  had  filled  her  lap  with  ripe  May- 
apples,*  but  finding  them  cumbersome  in  climb- 
ing the  steep  wooded  hills,  she  deposited  them 
at  the  foot  of  a  tree  near  the  boys,  and  pursued 
her  search ;  and  it  was  not  long  before  she  per- 
ceived some  pretty  grassy-looking  p-ants,  with 
heads  of  bright  lilac  flowers,  and  on  plucking 
some  pulled  up  the  root  also.    The  root  was 

*  PodophylUm  j}eltatum,—U&j-&Y>f\e,  or   Mandrake.    The 
fruit  of  the  May-apple,  in  rich,  moist  soil,  will  attain  to  the  size 
of  the  mngnum  bonum,  or  egg-plum  which  it  resembles  in 
colour  and  shape.    It  makes  a  delicious  preserve,  if  seasoned 
with  cloves  or  ginger;  when  eaten  uncooked,  the  outer  rind, 
which  is  thick  and  fleshy,  and  has  a  rank  taste,  should  bo 
thrown  aside;  the  fine  acid  pulp  in  which  the  seeds  are  im- 
bedded alone  should  bo  eaten.    The  root  of  the  Podophyllum  is 
used  as  a  cathartic  by  the  Inc  ms.    The  root  of  this  plnnt  is 
reticulated,  and  when  a  large  oody  of  them  are  uncovered, 
.     they  present  a  singular  appearance,  interlacing  each  other  m 
largo  meshes,  like  an  extensive  network ;  these  roots  are  white, 
as  thick  as  a  man's  little  finger,  and  fragrant,  and  spread  hon- 
jontally  iJong  the  surface.   The  blossom  is  like  a  smaJl  white  r«J** 


1 


THE  CANADIAN  C HUSOES. 


125 


and  im- 

anted  for 
bread  to 
'  sensibly, 
sre  busily 
\  unearth- 
iige  in  Ilia 
above  the 
)oking  for 
ripe  May- 
e  in  climb- 
sited  them 
id  pursued 
re  she  per- 
".ants,  with 
1  plucking 
s  root  waa 

indrako.    The 
tain  to  the  size 

resembles  in 
re,  if  oeasonod 
he  outer  rind, 
jte,  should  be 

seeds  are  im- 
*odophyllum  ia 
)f  this  plant  is 
ire  uncovered, 

each  other  in 
oots  are  white, 
id  spread  hori- 
maJl  white  TOi* 


■ 


about  tt  e  size  and  shape  of  a  large  crocus,  and, 
on  biting  it,  she  found  it  far  from  disagreeable, 
Bwcet,  and  slightly  astringent ;  it  seemed  to  be 
a  favourite  root  with  the  woodchucks,  for  she 
noticed  that  it  grew  about  their  burrows  on 
dry,  gravelly  soil,  and  many  of  the  stems  were 
bitten,  and  the  roots  eaten — a  warrant  in  full  of 
wholesomeness.  Therefore,  carryiniT  home  a 
parcel  of  the  largest  of  the  roots,  si  roasted 
t!:em  in  the  embers,  and  they  proved  almost  as 
good  as  chestnuts,  and  mora  satisfying  than  the 
acorns  of  the  white  oak,  which  they  had  often 
roastec^  in  the  fire,  when  they  were  out  working 
on  the  fallow,  at  the  log  heaps.  Hector  and 
Louis  ate  h~artily  of  the  roots,  and  commended 
Catharine  for  the  discovery.  Not  many  days 
afterwards,  Louis  accidentally  found  a  much 
larger  and  more  valuable  root,  near  the  lake 
shore.  He  saw  a  fine  climbing  shrub,  with 
close  bunches  of  dark  reddish-purple  pea-shaped 
flowers,  which  scented  the  air  with  a  delicious 
perfume.  The  plant  climbed  to  a  great  height 
over  the  young  trees,  with  a  profusion  of  dark 
green  leaves  and  tendrils.  Pleased  with  the 
bowery  appearance  of  the  plant,  he  tried  to  puV 
one  up,  that  he  might  show  it  to  his  cousin, 
when  the  root  displayed  a  number  of  large 
tubers,  as  big  as  good-sized  potatoes,  regular 
oval-shaoed :  the  inside  was  auite  white,  tasting 


126 


THE  CANADIAN   CRUSOES. 


Bomewbat  like  a  potato,  only  pleasanter,  when 
in  its  raw  state,  than  an  uncooked  potato.    Louis 
jjath^red  his  pockets  full,  and  hastened  home 
with  his  prize,  and,  on  being  roasted,  these  new 
roots  were  decided  to  be  little  inferior  to  pota- 
toes ;  at  all  events,  they  were  a  valuable  addition 
to  their  slender  stores,  and  they  procured  as 
many  as  they  could  find,  carefully  storing  them 
in  a  hole,  which  they  dug  for  that  purpose  in  a 
corner  of  their  hut  *    Hector  suggested  that 
these  roots  would  be  far  better  late  in  the  fall, 
or  early  in  the  spring,  than  during  the  time 
that  the  plant  was  in  bloom,  for  he  knew  from 
observation  and  experience  that  at  the  flowering 
season  the  greater  part   of  the  nourishment 
derived  from  the  soil  goes  to  perfect  the  flower 
and  the  seeds.    Upon  scraping  the  cut  tuber, 
there  was  a  white   floury  powder   produced, 
resembling  the  starchy  substance  of  the  po- 
tato. 

"This  flour,"  said  Catharine,  "would  make 

good  porridge  with  milk." 

"Excellent,  no  doubt,  my  wise  little  cook 
and  housekeeper,"  said  Louis,  laughing;  "but 

♦  This  plant  appears  to  me  to  be  a  species  of  the  PsoralM 
«sculenta,  or  Indian  breacl-root,  which  it  resembles  in  description, 
excepting  that  the  root  of  the  above  is  tuberous,  oval,  and  con- 
nected by  long  filaments.  The  largest  tubers  are  fiirthest  from 
the  stem  of  the  plant. 


THE  CANADIAN   ORUSOES. 


127 


ma  belle  cousine,  where  is  the  milk,  and  where 
is  the  porridge-pot  to  come  from  ?" 

"  Indoec',"  siiid  Catharine,  "  I  fear,  Louis,  we 
must  wait  long  for  both." 

One  fine  day,  Louis  returned  home  from  the 
lake  shore  in  great  haste,  for  the  bows  and 
arrows,  with  the  interesting  news  that  a  herd  of 
five  deer  were  in  the  water,  and  making  for 
Long  Island. 

"But,  Louis,  they  will  be  gone  out  of  sight 
and  beyond  the  reach  of  the  arrows,"  said 
Catharine,  as  she  handed  him  down  the  bows 
and  a  sheaf  of  arrows,  which  she  quickly  slung 
round  his  shoulders  by  the  belt  of  skin,  which 
the  young  hunter  had  made  for  himself. 

"  No  fear,  ma  ch^re ;  they  will  stop  to  feed 
on  the  beds  of  rice  and  lilies.  We  must  have 
Wolfe.  Here,  Wolfe,  Wolfe,  Wolfe,— here, 
boy,  herel" 

Catharine  caught  a  portion  of  the  excitement 
that  danced  in  the  bright  eyes  of  her  cousin, 
and  declaring  that  she  too  would  go  and  witness 
the  hunt,  ran  down  the  ravine  by  his  side,  while 
Wolfe,  who  evidently  understood  that  they  had 
.  some  sport  in  view,  trotted  along  by  his  mis- 
tress, wagging  his  great  bushy  tail,  and  looking 
in,  high  good  humour. 

Hector  was  impatiently  waiting  the^  arrival  oi 
the  bows  and  Wolfe.    The  herd  of  deer,  con 


..,?' 


128 


THE   CANADIAN   CRUSOES. 


Bisting  of  a  noble  buck,  two  full-grown  females, 
and  two  young  half-grown  males,  were  quietly- 
feeding  among  the  beds  of  rice  and  rushes,  not 
more  than  jafteen  or  twenty  yards  from  the 
shore,  apparently  quite  unconcerned  at  the  pres- 
ence of  Hector,  who  stood  on  a  fallen  trunk 
eagerly  eyeing  their  motions ;  but  the  hurried 
steps  of  Louis  and  Catharine,  with  the  deep 
sonorous  baying  of  Wolfe,  soon  roused  the  timid 
creatures  to  a  sense  of  danger,  and  the  stag, 
raising  his  head  and  making,  as  the  children 
thought,  a  signal  for  retreat,  now  struck  boldly 
out  for  the  nearest  point  of  Long  Island. 

"  We  shall  lose  them,"  cried  Louis,  despair- 
ingly, eyeing  the  long,  bright  track  that  cut 
the  silvery  waters,  as  the  deer  swam  gallantly 

out. 

"  Hist,  hist,  Louis,"  said  Hector,  "  all  depends 
upon  Wolfe.  Turn  them,  Wolfe;  hey,  hey, 
seek  them,  boy  1" 

Wolfe  dashed  bravely  into  the  lake. 

"  Head  them  1  head  them  1"  shouted  Hector. 

Wolfe  knew  what  was  meant;  with  the 
sagacity  of  a  long-trained  hunter,  he  made  a 
desperate  effort  to  gain  the  advantage  by  a  cir- 
cuitous route.  Twice  the  stag  turned  irresolute, 
as  if  to  face  his  foe,  and  Wolfe,  taki/ig  the  time, 
swam  ahead,  and  then  the  race  began.    As  soon 

as   the  DOyS  saw  liUO   acru  uau    uLiIiiv^i,  «iA-,  


THE  CANADIAN  CRUSOES. 


129 


Wolfe  was  between  them  and  the  island,  thej 
separated,  Louis  making  good  his  ambush  to 
the  right  among  the  cedars,  and  Hector  at  the 
spring  to  the  west,  while  Catharine  was  station- 
ed at  the  solitary  pine-tree,  at  the  point  which 
commanded  the  entrance  of  the  ravine. 

"  Now,  Cathy,"  said  her  brother,  "  whf.n  you 
see  the  herd  making  for  the  ravine,  sl;.out  and 
clap  your  hands,  and  they  will  turn  either  to 
the  right  or  to  the  left.  Do  not  let  Ihem  land, 
or  we  shall  lose  them.  We  must  ifi^st  to  Wolfe 
for  their  not  escaping  to  the  islajid.  Wolfe  w 
well  trained — ^he  knows  what  he  ia  about." 

Catharine  proved  a  dutiful  /Ay,  she  did  .03 
she  was  bid.  She  waited  till  the  deer,  were  with- 
in a  few  yards  of  the  shore,  then  she  shouted 
and  clapped  her  hands.  Frightened  at  the  noise 
and  clamour,  the  terrified  creatures  coasted 
along  for  some  way,  till  within  a  little  distance 
of  the  thicket  where  Hactor  lay  concealed,  the 
very  spot  from  which  they  had  emerged  sfhen 
they  first  took  to  the  water :  to  this  place  they 
boldly  steered.  Louis,  who  had  watched  the  di- 
rection the  herd  had  taken,  with  breathless 
interest,  now  noiseleoyly  hurried  to  Hector's  as- 
sistance, taking  an  advantageous  post  for  aim,  in 
case  Hector's  arrow  missed,  or  only  slightly 
wounded  one  of  the  deer. 

Hector-  croucihed  beneath  thr-  tr^es*  waited 


THE   CANADIAN  CRUSOES. 


cautiously  till  one  of  the  does  was  withm  reach 
of  his  arrow,  and  so  good  and  true  was  his  aim, 
that  it  hit  the  animal  in  the  throat  a  little  above 
the  chest.     The  stag   now  turned  again,  but 
Wolfe  was  behind,  and  pressed  him  forward, 
and  again  the  noble  animal  strained  every  nerve 
for  the  shore.     Louis  now  shot  his  arrow,  but  it 
swerved  from  the  mark;  he  was  too  eager;  it 
glanced  harmlessly  along  the  water;  but  the 
cool,  unimpassioned  hand  of  Hector  sent  an- 
other  arrow  between  the  eyes  of  the  doe,  stun- 
ning  her  with  its  force,  and  then,  another  from 
Louis  laid  her  on  her  side,  dying,  and  staining 
the  water  with  her  blood. 

The  herd,  abandoning  their  dying  companion, 
dashed  frantically  to  the  shore,  and  the  young 
hunters,  elated  by  their  success,  suffered  them 
to  make   good  their  landing   without  further 
molestation.    Wolfe,  at  a  signal  from  his  maa- 
ter,  ran  in  the  quarry,  and  Louis  declared  ex- 
ultingly,  that  as  his  last  arrow  had  given  the 
cowp  de  grace,  he  was  entitled  to  the  honour  of 
cutting  the  throat  of  the  doe ;  but  this  the  stern 
Hiohlander   protested  against,  and  Louis,  with 
a  careless  laugh,  yielded  the  point,  contenting 
himself  with  saying,  "  Ah,  well,  I  will  get  the 
first  steak  of  the  venison  when  it  is  roasted, 
and  that  is  far  more  to  my  taste."    Moreover, 
be  privately  recoumcu  v^  -oamaiaiiv/  -»•-  — g- — 


THE   CANADIAN   CRUS0E3. 


181 


ant  share  he  had  had  in  the  exploit,  giving  her, 
at  the  same  time,  full  credit  for  the  worthy  ser- 
vice she  had  performed,  in  withstanding  the 
landing  of  the  herd.  Wolfe,  too,  came  in  for  a 
large  share  of  the  honour  and  glory  of  the 
chase. 

The  boys  were  soon  hard  at  work,  skinning 
the  animal,  and  cutting  it  up.  This  was  the 
most  valuable  acquisition  they  had  yet  effected, 
for  many  uses  were  to  be  made  of  the  deer,  be- 
sides eating  the  flesh.  It  was  a  store  of  wealth 
in  their  eyes. 

During  the  many  years  that  their  fathers  had 
sojourned  in  the  country,  there  had  been  occa- 
sional intercourse  with  the  fur  traders  and  trap- 
pers, and,  sometimes,  with  friendly  disposed 
Indians,  who  had  called  at  the  lodges  of  their 
white  brothers  for  food  and  tobacco. 

From  all  these  men,  rude  as  they  were,  some 
practical  knowledge  had  been  acquired,  and 
their  visits,  though  few  and  far  between,  had 
left  good  fruit  behind  them ;  something  to  think 
about  and  talk  about,  and  turn  to  future  ad- 
vantage. 

The  boys  had  learned  from  the  Indians  how 
precious  were  the  tough  sinews  of  the  deer  for 
sewing.  They  knew  how  to  prepare  the  skins 
of  the  deer  for  mosassins,  which  they  could  cut 
out  and  make  as  neatly  as  the  squaws  tliem* 


:;IU 


i  ; 


!1» 

I 


ii 

*1 


THE   CANADIAN   CRUSOES. 


selves.  They  could  fashion  arrow-heads,  and 
knew  how  best  to  season  the  wood  for  making 
both  the  long  and  cross-bow ;  they  had  seen  the 
fish-hooks  these  people  manufactured  from  bone 
and  hard  wood  ;  they  knew  that  strips  of  fresh- 
cut  skins  would  make  bow-strings,  or  the  entrails 
of  animals  dried  and  rendered  pliable.  They 
had  watched  the  squaws  making  baskets  of  the 
inner  bark  of  the  oak,  elm,  and  basswood,  and 
mats  of  the  inner  bark  of  the  cedar,  with  many 
other  ingenious  works  that  they  now  found 
would  prove  useful  to  them,  after  a  little  prac- 
tice had  perfected  their  inexperienced  attempts. 
They  also  knew  how  to  dry  venison  as  the  In- 
dians and  trappers  prepare  it,  by  cutting  the 
thick  fleshy  portions  of  the  meat  into  strips, 
from  four  to  six  inches  in  breadth,  and  two  or 
more  in  thickness.  These  strips  they  strung 
upon  poles  supported  on  forked  sticks,  and  ex- 
posed them  to  the  drying  action  of  the  sun  and 
wind.  Fish  they  split  open,  and  removed  the 
back  and  head  bones,  and  smoked  them  slightly, 
or  dried  them  in  the  sun. 

Their  success  in  killing  the  doe  greatly  raised 
their  spirits ;  in  their  joy  they  embraced  each 
other,  and  bestowed  the  most  affectionate  ca- 
resses on  "Wolfe  for  his  good  conduct. 

"  But  for  this  dear,  wise  old  fellow,  we  should 
have  had  no  venaion  for  dinner  to-davj"  said 


THE   CANADIAN   CEUS0E3. 


133 


^ 


Louis ;  "  and  so,  Wolfe,  you  shall  have  a  choice 
piece  for  your  own  share." 

Every  part  of  the  deer  seemed  valuable  in 
the  eyes  of  the  young  hunters ;  the  skin  they 
carefully  stretched  out  upon  sticks  to  dry  grad- 
ually, and  the  entrails  they  also  preserved  for 
bow-strings.  The  sinews  of  the  legs  and  back 
they  drew  out,  and  laid  carefully  aside  for  fu- 
ture use. 

"  We  shall  be  glad  enough  of  these  strings 
by  and  by,"  said  careful  Hector;  "  for  the  sum- 
mer will  soon  be  at  an  end,  and  then  we  must 
turn  our  attention  to  making  ourselves  winter 
clothes  and  mocassins." 

"Yes,  Hec,  and  a  good  warm  shanty;  these 
huts  of  bark  and  boughs  will  not  do  when  once 
the  cold  weather  sets  in." 

"  A  shanty  would  soon  be  put  up,"  said  Hec- 
tor ;  "  for  even  Kate,  wee  bit  lassie  as  she  is,  could 
give  us  some  help  in  trimming  up  the  logs." 

"That  I  could,  indeed,"  replied  Catharine; 
"for  you  may  remember,  Hec,  that  the  last 
journey  my  father  made  to  the  Bay,*  with  the 
pack  of  furs,  that  you  and  I  called  a  Bee,^  to  put 

*  Bay  of  Quints, 

t  A  Bee  is  a  practical  instance  of  duty  to  a  neighbour.  Wo 
fear  it  is  peculiar  to  Canada,  although  deserving  of  imitation 
in  all  Christian  colonies.  When  any  woric  which  requires 
many  hands  is  in  the  course  of  performance,  as  the  building 
of  log-houses,  barns,  or  shantiu.  all  tho  no'irhbcurs  sse  sani- 
12     ' 


( 


184 


THE  CANADIAN  CliUSOES. 


up  a  abed  for  the  new  cow  that  he  was  to  drive 
back  with  him,  and  I  am  sure  Mathilde  and  I  did 
as  much  good  as  you  and  Louis.  You  know  you 
said  you  could  not  have  got  on  nearly  so  well 
without  our  help." 

"  Yes,  and  you  cried  because  you  got  a  fall 
off  the  shed  when  it  was  only  four  logs  high." 

"  It  was  not  for  the  fall  that  I  cried,"  said 
Catharine,  resentfully,  "but  because  cousin 
Louis  and  you  laughed  at  me,  and  said,  *  Cats, 
you  know,  have  nine  lives,  and  seldom  are  hurt, 
because  they  light  on  their  feet,'  and  I  tl  ^ught 
it  was  very  cruel  to  laugh  at  me  when  I  was  in 
pain.  Besides,  you  called  me  '  puss,'  and  *  poor 
pussie'  all  the  rest  of  the  jBee," 

"  I  am  sure,  ma  belle,  I  am  very  sorry  if  X 
was  rude  to  you,"  said  Louis,  trying  to  look 
penitent  for  the  offence.  "  For  my  part,  I  had 
forgotten  all  about  ths  fall ;  I  only  know  that 
we  passed  a  very  merry  day.  Dear  aunt  made 
us  a  fine  johnny-cake  for  tea,  with  lots  of  maple 
molasses ;  and  the  shed  was  a  capital  shed,  and 
the  cow  must  have  thought  us  fine  builders,  to 
have  made  such  a  comfortable  shelter  for  her, 
with  no  better  help." 

*'  After  all,"  said  Hector,  thoughtfully,  "  chil- 

moned,  and  give  their  best  aasistanoe  in  the  conetrucUon.  Of 
course  the  assisted  party  ia  liable  to  be  called  upoa  by  the 
ooaunuoity  in  turn,  to  repay  in  kind  the  help  he  has  rtoelTed. 


THE  CANADIAN  CRUSOES. 


185 


dren  can  do  a  great  many  things  if  they  only 
resolutely  set  to  work,  and  use  the  wits  and  the 
strength  that  God  has  given  them  to  work  with. 
A  few  weeks  ago,  and  we  should  have  thought 
it  utterly  impossible  to  have  supported  ourselves 
in  a  lonely  wilderness  like  this  by  our  own  ex- 
ertions in  fishing  and  hunting." 

"If  we  had  been  lost  in  the  forest,  we  must 
have  died  with  hunger,"  said  Catharine ;  "but 
let  us  be  thankful  to  the  good  God  who  led  us 
hither,  and  gave  us  health  and  strength  to  help 
oureelvea." 


t  I 


ISA 


THE  CANADIAN  CRUSOES 


CHAPTER  IV. 


# 


r 


I 


^  iji 


"  Aye  from  the  sultry  heat, 

We  to  our  cave  retreat, 
O'ercanopied  by  huge  roots,  intertwined, 
Of  wildest  texture,  blacken'd  o'er  with  age. 
Bound  them  their  mantle  groen  the  climbers  twine. 

Beneath  whose  mantle — pale, 

Fann'd  by  the  breathing  gale. 
We  shield  us  from  the  fervid  mid-day  rage, 
Thither,  while  the  murmuring  throng 
Of  wild  bees  hum  their  drows'  song." — CoLERnxta 

"  T  OUIS,  what  are  you  cutting  out  oJ  chat 
■'^  bit  of  wood?"    said  Cathariae,  the  vrery 
next  day  after  the  first  ideas  of  the  shanty  had 
been  started. 

"  Hollowing  out  a  canoe." 

"  Out  of  that  piece  of  stick?"  said  Catharine, 
laughing.  "  How  many  passengers  is  it  to  ac- 
commodate, my  dear?" 

"  Don't  tease,  ma  belle.  I  am  only  making 
a  model.  My  canoe  will  be  made  out  of  a  big 
pine  log,  and  large  enough  to  hold  three." 

"  Is  it  to  be  like  the  big  sap-trough  in  the  su 
gar-bush  at  home  ?"    Louis  nodded  assent. 

"  I  long  to  go  over  to  the  island ;  I  see  lots  of 
of  ducks  popping  in  and  out  of  the  little  bays 
beneath  the  cedars,  and  there  are  plenty  of  par* 


THE  CANAPIAN  CRUSOES. 


137 


Iridges,  I  am  sure,  and  squirrels, — it  is  the  very 
place  for  tliem." 

"And  shall  we  have  a  sail  as  well  as  oars?" 

"  Yes ;  set  up  your  apron  for  a  sail." 

Catharine  cast  a  rueful  look  upon  the  tattered 
remnant  of  the  apron. 

"•It  is  worth  nothing  now,"  she  said,  sighing ; 
"  and  what  am  I  to  do  when  rny  gown  is  worn 
out  ?  It  is  a  good  thing  it  is  so  strong ;  if  it  had 
been  cotton,  now,  it  would  have  been  torn  to 
bits  among  the  bushes." 

"  We  must  make  clothes  of  skins  as  soon  as 
we  get  enough,"  said  Hector ;  "  Louis,  I  think 
you  can  manufacture  a  bone  needle;  we  can 
pierce  the  holes  with  the  strong  thorns,  or  a  little 
round  bone  bodkin,  that  can  be  easily  made." 

"  The  first  rainy  day,  we  will  see  what  we 
can  do,"  replied  Louis ;  "  but  I  am  full  of  my 
canoe  just  now." 

"Indeed,  Louis,  I  believe  you  never  think  of 
any  thing  else;  but  even  if  we  had  a  canoe 
to-mon-ow,  I  do  not  think  that  either  you  or  I 
could  manage  one,"  said  cautious  Hector. 

"I  could  soon  learn,  as  others  have  done 
before  me.  I  wonder  who  first  taught  the 
Indians  to  make  canoes,  and  venture  out  on  the 
lakes  and  streams !  Why  should  we  be  more 
Btupid  than  these  untaught  heathens  ?  I  have 
listened  so  often  to  my  father's  stories  and  ad- 
12* 


■MP 


u 


138 


THE   CANADIAN   CRUS0K9. 


ventures  when  he  was  out  lumbering  on  the  St» 
John's  river,  that  I  am  as  familiar  with  the  idea 
of  a  boat  as  if  I  had  been  born  in  one.  Only 
think  now,  ma  belle,"  he  said,  turning  to  Catha- 
rine ;  "just  think  of  the  fish — the  big  ones  we 
could  get  if  we  had  but  a  canoe  to  push  out  from 
the  shore  beyond  those  rush-beds." 

"  It  strikes  me,  Louis,  that  those  rush-beds,  as 
you  call  them,  must  be  the  Indian  rice  that  we 
have  seen  the  squaws  make  their  soup  of." 

"  Yes ;  and  you  remember  old  Jacob  used  to 
talk  of  a  fine  lake  that  he  called  Rice  Lake, 
somewhere  to  the  northward  of  the  Cold  Springs, 
where  he  said  there  was  plenty  of  game  of  all 
kinds,  and  a  fine  open  place,  where  people  could 
see  through  the  openings  among  the  trees.  He 
said  it  was  a  great  hunting-place  for  the  Indians 
in  the  fall  of  the  year,  and  that  they  came  there 
to  gather  in  the  harvest  of  wild  rice." 

"  I  hope  the  Indians  will  not  come  here  and 
find  us  out,"  said  Catharine,  shuddering;  "I 
think  I  should  be  more  frightened  at  the  Indians 
than  at  the  wolves.  Have  we  not  heard  fearful 
tales  of  their  cruelty  ?" 

"  But  we  have  never  been  harmed  by  them ; 
they  have  always  been  civil  enough  when  they 
came  to  the  Springs." 

"  They  came,  you  know,  for  food,  or  shelter, 
or  something  that  they  wanted  from  us;  but 


THE  CANApIAN  CRUSOKS. 


189 


It  may  be  different  when  they  find  ua  alone  and 
unprotected,  encroaching  upon  their  hunting- 
grounds." 

"  The  place  is  wide  enough  for  us  and  them ; 
we  will  try  and  make  them  our  friends." 

"The  wolf  and  the  lamb  do  not  lie  down  in 
the  fold  together,"  observed  Hector.  "The 
Indian  is  treacherous.  The  wild  man  and  the 
civilized  man  do  not  live  well  together,  their 
habits  and  dispositions  are  so  contrary  the  one 
to  the  other.  We  are  open,  and  they  are  cunning, 
and  they  suspect  our  openness  to  be  only  a 
greater  degree  of  cunning  than  their  own — they 
do  not  understand  us.  They  are  taught  to  be 
revengeful,  and  we  are  taught  to  forgive  our 
enemies.  So  you  see  that  what  is  a  virtue  with 
tJ  .e  savage,  is  a  crime  with  the  Christian.  If  the 
Indian  could  be  taught  the  word  of  God,  be 
might  be  kind  and  true,  and  gentle  as  well  as 
brave." 

It  was  with  conversations  like  this  that  our 
poor  wanderers  wiled  away  their  weariness. 
The  love  of  life,  and  the  exertions  necessary  for 
self-preservation,  occupied  so  large  a  portion  of 
their  thoughts  and  time,  that  they  had  hardly 
leisure  for  repining.  They  mutually  cheered  and 
animated  each  other  to  bear  up  against  the  sad 
fate  that  had  thus  severed  them  from  evsry  kin- 
dred tie,  and  shut  them  out  from  that  honi**  *'» 


i|j 
I 

;! 


140 


THE   CANALnAir  CRUSOES. 


which  their  young  heiuvti  trere  bound  by  evpiy 
endearing  remembrance  from  inflincy  upwards. 
One  briglit  September  morning,  our  young 
people  set  off  on  an  exploring  cxi)editiorj,  leav- 
ing the  faithful  Wolfo  to  watch  the  wigwam,  for 
they  well  knew  he  was  too  honest  to  touch  their 
Btore  of  dried  fish  and  venison  himself,  and  too 
trusty  and  fierce  to  suffer  wolf  or  wild  cat 
near  it. 

They  crossed  several  narrow,  deep  ravines, 
and  the  low  wooded  flat*  along  the  lake  shore, 
to  the  eastward  of  Pine-tree  Poiat.  Finding  it 
difficult  to  force  their  way  through  the  thick 
underwood  that  always  impedes  the  progress  of 
the  traveller  on  the  low  shores  of  the  lake,  they 
followed  the  course  of  an  ascending  narrow 
ridge,  which  formed  a  sort  of  natural  causeway 
between  two  parallel  hollows,  the  top  of  this 
ridge  being,  in  many  place?.,  not  wider  than  a 
cart  or  waggon  could  pass  along.  The  sides 
were  most  gracefully  adorned  with  Qowering 
shrubs,  wild  vines,  creepers  of  various  species, 
wild  cherries  of  several  kinds,  hawthorns,  bil- 
berry bushes,  high-bush  oranberrico,  silver  birch, 
poplars,  oaks,  and  pines ;  while  in  the  deep  ra- 

*  Nowtho  fertile  farm  of  Joe  Harris,  a  Tanker  settler,  whose 
plonsaut  meadows  and  Holds  of  grain  form  a  pretty  feature  from 
the  lake.  It  is  one  of  the  oldest  doarings  on  the  shore,  and 
tpeaks  weU  for  the  persevering  ind  itry  of  the  setUer  and  his 
fiuoily. 


THE   CANADIAN  CRUSOES. 


141 


vines  on  either  side  grew  trees  of  the  largest 
growth,  the  heads  of  which  lay  on  a  level  with 
their  path.  Wild  cliffy  banks,  beset  with  huge 
boulders  of  red  and  grey  granite  and  water- worn 
limestone,  showed  that  it  had  once  formed  the 
boundary  of  the  lake,  though  now  it  was  almost 
a  quarter  of  a  mile  in  its  rear.  Springs  of  pure 
water  were  in  abundance,  trickling  down  the 
steep  rugged  sides  of  this  wooded  glen.  The 
children  wandered  onwards,  delighted  with  the 
wild  picturesque  path  they  had  chosen,  some- 
times resting  on  a  huge  block  of  moss-covered 
stone,  or  on  the  twisted  roots  of  some  ancient 
grey  old  oak  or  pine,  while  they  gazed  with  curi- 
osity and  interest  on  the  lonely  but  lovely  land- 
scape before  them.  Across  the  lake,  the  dark 
forest  shut  all  else  from  tlicii  iew,  rising  in 
gradual  far-off  slopes,  ti',  it  reached  the  utmost 
boundary  of  sight.  Much  the  children  mar- 
velled what  country  it  might  be  that  lay  in  the 
dim,  blue,  hazy  distance, — to  them,  indeed,  a 
lerra  incognita — a  land  of  mystery ;  but  neither 
of  her  companions  laughed  when  Catharine 
gravely  suggested  the  probability  of  this  un- 
known shore  to  the  northward  being  her  fa- 
ther's beloved  Highlands.  Let  not  the  youth 
ful  and  more  learned  reader  smile  at  the  igno- 
rance of  the  Canadian  girl ;  she  knew  nothing  of 
maps,  and  globes,  and  hemisDhena-. — her  onl^ 


142 


THE  CANADIAN  CBUSOES. 


r 


tv 


i^ 


«^' 


X 


book  of  study  had  been  the  Holy  Scriptures,  her 
only  teacher  a  poor  Highland  soldier. 

Following  the  elevated  ground  above  this 
deep  valley,  the  travellers  at  last  halted  on  the 
extreme  edge  of  a  high  and  precipitous  mound, 
that  formed  an  abrupt  termination  to  the  deep 
glen.     They  found  water  not  far  from  this  spoi 
fit  for  drinking,  by  following  a  deer-path  a  little 
to  the  southward.     And  there,  on  the  borders  of 
a  little  basin  on  a  pleasant  brae,  where  the  bright 
silver  birch  waved  gracefully  over  its  sides,  they 
decided  upon   building  a  winter-house.     They 
named  the  spot  Mount  Ararat:    "For  here," 
said  they,  "  we  will  build  us  an  ark  of  refuge, 
and  wander  no  more."    And  Mount  Ararat  is 
the  name  which  the  spot  still  bears.     Here  they 
sat  them  down  on  a  fallen  tree,  and  ate  a  meal 
of  dried  venison,  and  drank  of  the  cold  spring 
that  welled  out  from  beneath  the  edge  of  the 
bank.     Hector  felled  a  tree  to  mark  the  site  of 
their  house  near  the  birches,  and  they  made  a 
regular  blaze  on  the  trees  as  they  returned 
home  towards  the  wigwam,  that  they  might  not 
miss  the  place.   They  found  less  difficulty  in  re- 
tracing  their  path  than  they  had  formerly,  as 
there  were  some  striking  peculiarities  to  mark 
it,  and  they  had  learned  to  be  very  minute  in 
the  remarks  they  made  as  they  travelled,  so  that 

theV     now     n^ldrtm     misoA/^     fVia    ■gratr    fk/^'! 


way 


ajf     uoiUO 


THE   CANADIAN   CRUSOES. 


143 


>y.  A  few  days  after  this,  they  removed  all 
their  household  stores,  viz.,  the  axe,  the  tin-pot, 
bows  and  arrows,  baskets,  and  bags  of  dried 
fruit,  the  dried  venison  and  fish,  and  the  deer- 
akin  ;  nor  did  they  forget  the  deer-scalp,  which 
they  bore  away  as  a  trophy,  to  be  fastened  up 
over  the  door  of  their  new  dwelling,  for  a  me- 
morial of  their  first  hunt  on  the  shores  of  the 
Rice  Lake.  The  skin  was  given  to  Catharine  to 
sleep  on. 

The  boys  were  now  busy  from  morning  till 
night  chopping  down  trees  for  house-logs.  It 
was  a  work  of  time  and  labour,  as  the  axe  was 
blunt,  and  the  oaks  hard  to  cut;  but  they 
laboured  on  without  grumbling,  and  Kate 
watched  the  fall  of  each  tree  with  lively  joy. 
They  were  no  longer  dull;  there  was  something 
to  look  forward  to  from  day  to  day — they  were 
going  to  commence  housekeeping  in  good  earnest 
and  they  should  be  warm  and  well  lodged  before 
the  bitter  frosts  of  winter  could  come  to  chill 
their  blood.  It  was  a  joyful  day  when  the  log 
walls  of  the  little  snanty  were  put  up,  and  the 
door  hewed  out.  Windows  they  had  none,  so 
they  did  not  cut  out  the  spaces  for  them  ;*  they 
could  do  very  well  without,  as  hundreds  of  Irish 

♦  Many  a  shanty  is  i»rt  up  in  Canada  without  windows,  and 
only  an  open  space  for  a  door,  with  a  rude  plank  set  up  to  doM 
it  ia  at  uiglts. 


144 


THE   CANADIAN  CRUSOES. 


And  Highland  emigrants  have  done  before  and 
since. 

A  pile  of  stones  rudely  cemented  together 
with  wet  clay  and  ashes  against  the  logs,  and  a 
hole  cut  in  the  roof,  formed  the  chimney  and 
hearth  in  this  primitive  dwelling.  The  chinks 
were  filled  with  wedge-shaped  pieces  of  wood, 
and  plastered  with  clay  :  the  trees,  being  chiefly 
oaks  and  pines,  afforded  no  moss.  This  defi- 
ciency rather  surprised  the  boys,  for  in  the  thick 
forest  and  close  cedar  swamps,  moss  grows  in 
abundance  on  the  north  side  of  the  trees,  espe- 
cially on  the  cedar,  maple,  beech,  bass,  and  iron- 
wood  ;  but  there  were  few  of  these,  excepting 
a  chance  one  or  two  in  the  little  basin  in  front 
of  the  house.  The  roof  was  next  put  on,  which 
consisted  of  split  cedars;  and  when  the  little 
dwelling  was  thus  far  habitable,  they  were  all 
very  happy.  "While  the  boys  had  been  putting 
on  the  roof,  Catharine  had  collected  the  stones 
for  the  chimney,  and  cleared  the  earthen  floor 
of  the  ohips  and  rubbish  with  a  broom  of  cedar 
boughs,  bound  together  with  a  leathern  thong. 
She  had  swept  it  all  clean,  carefully  removing 
all  unsightly  objects,  and  strewing  it  over  with 
fresh  cedar  sprigs,  which  gave  out  a  pleasant 
odour,  and  formed  a  smooth  and  not  unseemly 
carpet  for  their  little  dwelling.     How  cheerful 

yifiis  hu,^  iJ,i.oii  u.x^  uxo^x^iug  UL/vxi,  uixcii   vwu  u^AXbu  j 


THE  CANADIAN  CRUSOES. 


145 


espe- 


It  v.'as  so  pleasant  to  sit  by.  its  glacdening  light, 
and  chat  away  of  all  they  had  done  and  all  that 
they  meant  to  do.  Here  was  to  he  a  set  of  split 
'  cedar  shelves,  to  hol^l  their  provisions  and  bas- 
kets ;  there  a  set  of  stout  pegs  were  to  be  insert- 
ed between  the  logs  for  hanging  up  strings  of 
dried  meat,  bags  of  birch-bark,  or  the  skins  of 
the  animals  they  were  to  shoot  or  trap.  A  table 
was  to  be  fixed  on  posts  in  the  centre  of  the  floor. 
Louis  was  to  carve  wooden  platters  and  dishes, 
and  some  stools  were  to  be  made  with  hewn 
blocks  of  w^c'i,  dll  something  better  could  be 
devised.  ':  1-1-  bedst'^ ads  were  rough  poles  of 
iron-wood,  Bupported  by  posts  driven  into  the 
ground,  and  partly  upheld  by  the  projection  of 
the  logs  at  the  angles  of  the  wall.  Nothing  could 
be  more  simple.  The  framework  was  of  split 
cedar ;  and  a  safe  bed  was  mad  3  by  pine  boughs 
being  first  laid  upon  the  frarie,  and  then  thickly 
coevred  with  dried  grass,  moss,  and  withered 
leaves.  Such  were  the  lowly  but  healthy  couches 
on  which  these  children  of  the  forest  slept. 

A  dwelling  so  rudely  framed  and  scantily 
furnished  would  be  regarded  with  disdain  by 
the  poorest  English  peasant.  Yet  many  a 
settler's  family  have  I  seen  as  roughly  lodged, 
while  a  better  house  was  being  prepared  for 
their  reception;  and  many  a  gentleman's  son 
■'""''        'jmitted  to  Drivations  as  greafi 


13 


priv, 


U6 


THE   CANADIAN   CRirSOES. 


IHi 


as  thes'  from  the  love  of  novelty  and  adventure, 
or  to  embark  in  the  tempting  expectation  of 
realizing  money  in  the  lumbering  trade,  .vorking 
hard,  and  sharing  the  rude  log  shanty  and  ruder 
society  of  those  reckless  and  hardy  meL,  the 
Canadian  lumberers.  During  the  spring  and 
summer  months,  these  men  spread  themselves 
through  the  trackless  forests,  and  along  the 
shores  of  nameless  lakes  and  unknown  streams, 
to  cut  the  pine  or  oak  lumber,  such  being  the 
name  they  give  to  the  felled  stems  of  trees, 
which  are  then  hewn,  and  in  the  winter  dragged 
out  upon  the  ice,  where  they  are  formed  into 
rafts,  and  floated  down  the  waters  till  they 
reach  the  great  St,  Lawrence,  and  are,  after 
innumerable  difficulties  and  casualties,  finally 
shipped  for  England.  I  have  likewise  known 
European  gentlemen  voluntarily  leave  the  com- 
forts of  a  civilized  home,  and  associate  them- 
selves with  the  Indian  trappers  and  hunters, 
leading  lives  as  wandering  and  vas  wild  as  the 
uncultivated  children  of  the  forest. 

The  nights  and  early  mornings  were  already 
growing  sensibl}'^  more  chilly.  The  dews  at 
this  season  fall  heavily,  and  the  mists  fill  the 
valleys,  till  the  sun  has  risen  with  sullioient  heat 
to  draw  up  the  vapours.  It  was  a  good  thing 
that  the  shanty  was  finished  so  soon,  or  the 

J.  _       J.1 J— — .^..      .1..      mmIm.!-*^        X««k*vA      Iv^^^kVk      V\1A/X_ 

exposure  vo  tins  uuiup  an  uiigui*  uavc  uc^ii  j/iv- 


THE  CANADIAN  CRUSOES. 


W7 


ductive  of  ague  and  fever.  Every  hour  almost 
they  spent  in  making  little  additions  to  their 
household  comforts,  but  some  time  wc2  neces- 
sarily passed  in  trying  to  obtain  provisions. 
One  day  Hector,  who  had  been  out  from  dawn 
till  moonrise,  returned  with  the  welcome  news 
that  he  had  shot  a  young  deer,  and  required  the 
assistance  of  his  cousin  to  bring  it  up  the  steep 
bank — (it  was  just  at  the  entrance  of  the  great 
ravine)— below  the  precipitous  clifi'  near  the 
lake ;  he  had  left  old  Wolfe  to  guard  it  in  the 
mean  time.  They  had  now  plenty  of  fresh  broiled 
meat,  and  this  store  was  very  acceptable,  as  they 
were  obliged  to  be  very  careful  of  the  dried 
meat  that  they  had. 

This  time  Catharine  adopted  a  new  plan. 
Instead  of  cutting  the  meat  in  strips,  and  drying 
it,  (or  jerking  it,  as  the  lumberers  term  it,)  she 
roasted  it  before  the  fire,  and  hung  it  up,  wrap- 
ping it  in  thin  sheets  of  birch  bark.  The  juices, 
instead  of  being  dried  up,  were  preserved,  and 
the  meat  was  more  palatable.  Catharine  found 
great  store  of  wild  plums  in  a  beautiful  vallev, 
not  far  from  the  shanty ;  these  she  dried  for  the 
winter  store,  eating  sparingly  of  them  in  their 
fresh  state ;  she  also  found  plenty  of  wild  black 
currants,  and  high-bush  cranberries,  on  the  banks 
of  a  charming  creek  of  bright  water  that  flowed 
between  a  range  of  high  pine  hills,  and  finally 


148 


THE   CANADIAN   CRUSOES. 


emptied  itself  into  the  lake  *  There  were  great 
quantities  of  water-cresses  in  this  pretty  brook ; 
they  grew  in  bright,  round,  cushion-like  tufts  at 
the  bottom  of  the  water,  and  were  tender  and 
wholesome.  These  formed  an  agreeable  addi- 
tion to  their  diet,  which  had  hitherto  been  chiefly 
confined  to  animal  food,  for  they  could  not  always 
meet  with  a  supply  of  the  bread-roots,  as  they 
grew  chiafly  in  damp,  swampy  thickets  on  the 
lake  shore,  which  were  sometimes  very  difficult 
of  access;  however,  they  never  missed  any 
opportunity  of  increasing  their  stores,  and  lay- 
ing up  for  the  winter  such  roots  as  they  could 
procure. 

As  the  cool  weather  and  frosty  nights  drew 
on,  the  want  of  warm  clothes  and  bed-covering 
became  more  sensibly  felt :  those  they  had  were 
beginning  to  wear  out.  Catharine  had  managed 
to  wash  her  clothes  at  the  lake  several  times, 
and  thus  preserved  them  clean  and  wholesome ; 
but  she  was  often  sorely  puzzled  how  the  want 
of  her  dress  was  to  be  supplied  as  time  wore  on, 
and  many  were  the  consultations  she  held  with 
the  boys  on  the  important  subject.  With  the 
aid  of  a  needle  she  might  be  able  to  manufacture 

*  This  little  stream  f  >W8  through  the  green  meadows  of 
"  Glenlynden,"  watering  the  grounds  of  Mr.  Alfred  Hay  ward, 
whose  picturesque  cottage  forms  a  most  attractive  object  to  tb« 


w 


6  of  the  travell* 


THE  CANADIAN  CEUSOES. 


14^ 


!' 


the  skins  of  the  small  animals  into  some  sort  of 
jacket,  and  the  doe-skin  and  deer-skin  could  bo 
made  into  garments  for  the  boys.  Louis  was 
always  supplying  and  rubbing  the  skins  to  make 
them  soft.  They  had  taken  off  the  hair  by 
sprinkling  it  with  wood  ashes,  and  rolling  it  up 
with  the  hairy  side  inwards.  Out  of  one  of  these 
skins  he  made  excellent  mocassins,  piercing  the 
holes  with  a  sharpened  bone  bodkin,  and  pass- 
ing the  sinews  of  the  deer  through,  as  he  had 
Been  his  father  do,  by  fixing  a  stout  fish-bone  to 
the  deer-sinew  thread  ;  thus  he  had  an  excellent 
substitute  for  a  needle,  and  with  the  aid  of  the 
old  file  he  sharpened  the  point  of  the  rusty  nail, 
so  that  he  was  enabled,  with  a  little  trouble,  to 
drill  a  hole  in  a  bone  needle,  for  his  cousin  Cath- 
arine's use.  After  several  attempts,  he  sucoeeded 
in  making  some  of  tolerable  fineness,  hardening 
them  by  exposure  to  a  slow,  steady  degree  of 
heat,  till  she  was  able  to  work  with  them,  and 
even  mend  her  clothes  with  tolerable  expertness. 
By  degrees,  Catharine  contrived  to  cover  the 
whole  outer  surface  of  her  homespun  woollen 
frock  with  squirrel  and  mink,  musk-rat  and 
woodchuck  skins.  A  curious  piece  of  fur  patch- 
work of  many  hues  and  textures  it  presented 
to  the  eye, — a  coat  of  many  colours,  it  is  true : 
but  it  kept  the  wearer  warm,  and  Catharine  was 
not  a  little  proud  of  her  ingenuity  and  industry 
13* 


i 


150 


THE   CANADIAN   CRUS0E3. 


every  new  patch  that  was  added  was  a  source  of 
fresh  satisfaction,  and  the  mocassins,  that  Louis 
fitted  so  nicely  to  her  feet,  were  great  comforts. 
A  fine  skin  that  Hector  brought  triumphantly  in 
one  day,  the  spoil  from  a  fox  that  had  been 
caught  in  one  of  his  dead-falls,  was  in  due  time 
converted  into  a  dashing  cap,  .he  brush  remain- 
ing as  an  ornament  to  hang  down  on  one  shoulder. 
Catharine  might  have  passed  for  a  small  Diana, 
when  she  went  out  with  her  fur  dress  and  bow 
and  arrows  to  hunt  with  Hecior  and  Bonis. 

Whenever  game  of  any  kind  was  killed,  it 
was  carefully  skinned  and  stretched  upon  bent 
sticks,  being  first  turned,  so  ^  to  present  the 
inner  part  to  the  drying  action  of  the  air.  The 
young  hunters  were  most  expert  in  this  work, 
having  oeen  accustomed  for  many  years  to  assist 
their  fathers  in  preparing  the  furs  which  they 
disposed  of  to  the  fur  traders,  who  visited  them 
from  time  to  time,  and  gave  them  various  ar- 
ticles in  exchange  for  their  peltries,  such  as 
powder  and  shot,  and  cutlery  of  different  kinds, 
as  knives,  scissors,  needles,  and  pins,  with  gay 
calicoes  and  cotton  handkerchiefs  for  the  women. 

As  the  evenings  lengthened,  the  boys  em- 
ployed themselves  with  carving  wooden  platters : 
knives,  and  forks,  and  spoons  they  fashioned  out 
of  the  larger  bones  of  the  deer,  which  they  of- 
ten found  bleaching  in  the  sun  and  wind,  where 


THE   CANADIAN   CRUSOKS. 


151 


they  had  been  left  by  their  enemies  the  wolves ; 
baskets,  too,  they  made,  and  birch  dishes,  which 
they  could  now  finish  so  well  that  they  held 
water,  or  any  liquid ;  but  their  great  want  was 
some  vessel  that  would  bear  the  heat  of  the  fire. 
The  tin-pot  was  so  small  that  it  could  be  made 
little  use  of  in  the  cooking  way.  Catharine  had 
made  an  attempt  at  making  tea,  on  a  small 
scale,  of  the  leaves  of  the  sweet  fern, — a  graceful 
woody  fern,  with  a  fine  aromatic  scent  like  nut- 
megs. This  plant  is  highly  esteemed  among 
the  Canadians  as  a  beverage,  and  also  as  a 
remedy  against  the  ague;  it  grows  in  great 
abundance  on  dry,  sandy  lands  and  wastes,  by 
waysides. 

"If  we  could  but  make  some  sort  of  earthen 
pot  that  would  stand  the  heat  of  the  fire,"  said 
Louis,  "  we  could  get  on  nicely  with  cooking." 

But  nothing  like  the  sort  of  clay  used  by  pot- 
ters had  been  seen,  and  they  were  obliged  to 
give  up  that  thought,  and  content  themselves 
with  roasting  or  broiling  their  food.  Louis, 
however,  who  was  fond  of  contrivances,  made 
an  oven,  by  hollowing  out  a  place  near  the 
hearth,  and  lining  it  with  stones,  filling  up  the 
intervals  with  wood  ashes  and  such  clay  as  they 
could  find,  beaten  into  a  smooth  mortar.  Such 
cement  answered  very  well,  and  the  oven  was 
heated  hy  filling  it  with  hot  embers  j  these  wero 


j^** 


»,, 


152 


THE   CANADIAN   CRUSOES. 


removed  when  it  was  suiliciently  heated,  and 
the  meat  or  roots  placed  within,  the  oven  being 
covered  over  with  a  flat  stone  previously  heated 
before  the  fire,   and  covered    with  live  coald. 
This  sort  of  oven  had  often  been  described  by 
old  Jacob,  as  one  in  common  use  among  some 
of  the  Indian  tribes  in  the  lower  province,  in 
which  they  cook  small  animals,  and  make  ex- 
cellent meat  of  them ;  they  could  bake  bread 
also  in  this  oven,  if  they  had  had  flour  to  use.* 
Since  the  finishing  of  the  house  and  furnish- 
ing it,  the  young  people  were  more  reconciled 
to  their  lonely  life,  and  even  entertained  decided 
home  feelings  for  their  little  log  cabin.     They 
never  ceased,  it  is  true,  to  talk  of  their  parents, 
and  brothers,  and  sisters,  and  wonder  if  all  were 
well,  and  whether   they   still  hoped  for  their 
return,  and  to  recall  all  their  happy  days  spent 
in  the  home  which  they  now  feared  they  were 
destined  never  again   to   behold.    About  the 
same  time  they  lost  the  anxious  hope  of  meeting 
some  one  from  home  in  search  of  them  at  every 
turn  when  they  went  out.    Nevertheless,  they 
were  becoming  each  day  more   cheerful  and 
more  active.     Ardently  attached  to  each  other, 
f  they  seemed  bound  to  each  other  by  a  yet  more 

*  This  primitive  oven  is  much  like  what  voyagers  have 
4e8oribed  as  in  use  among  the  natives  of  many  of  the  South 


THE   CANADIAN   CRUSOES. 


163 


aacred  tie  of  brotherhood.  They  were  now  all 
the  world  to  one  another,  and  no  cloud  of  dis- 
union came  to  mar  their  ha])piness.  Hector's 
habitual  gravity  and  caution  were  tempered  by 
Louis's  lively  vivacity  and  ardour  of  temper, 
and  they  both  loved  Catharine,  and  strove  to 
smooth,  as  much  as  possible,  the  hard  life  to 
which  she  was  exposed,  by  the  most  affectionate 
consideration  for  her  comfort ;  and  she  in  return 
endeavoured  to  repay  them  by  cheerfully  endu- 
ring all  privations,  and  making  light  of  all  their 
trials,  and  taking  a  lively  interest  in  all  theii 
plans  and  contrivances. 

Louis  had  gone  out  to  fish  at  the  lake  ono 
autumn  morning.  During  his  absence,  a  sudden 
squall  of  wind  came  on,  accompanied  with  heavy 
rain.  As  he  stayed  longer  than  usual.  Hector 
began  to  feel  uneasy,  lest  some  accident  had 
befallen  him,  knowing  his  adventurous  spirit, 
and  that  he  had  for  some  days  previous  been 
busy  constructing  a  raft  of  cedar  logs,  which  he 
had  fastened  together  with  wooden  pins.  This 
raft  he  had  nearly  finished,  and  was  even  talk- 
ing of  adventuring  over  to  the  nearest  island  to 
explore  it,  and  see  what  game,  and  roots,  and 
fruits  it  afforded. 

Bidding  Catharine  stay  quietly  within  doora 
till  his  return,  Hector  ran  off,  not  without  soma 
misgivings  of  evil   having   befallen    his    rasb 


1 


4 


ff 


154 


THE   CANADIAN   CRUSOES. 


cousin,  which  fears  he  carefully  concealed  from 
his  sister,  as  he  did  not  wish  to  make  her  need- 
lessly anxious.  When  he  reached  the  shore,  his 
mind  was  somewhat  relieved  by  seeinf,^  the  raft 
on  the  beach,  just  as  it  had  been  left  the  night 
before,  but  neither  Louis  nor  the  axe  was  to  be 
-seen,  nor  the  fishing-rod  and  line. 

"  Perhaps,"  thought  he,  "Louis  has  gone  fur- 
ther down  to  the  mouth  of  the  little  creek  in 
the  flat  east  of  this,  where  we  caught  our  last 
fish  ;  or  maybe  he  has  gone  up  to  the  old  place 
at  Pine-tree  Point." 

While  he  yet  stood  hesitating  within  himself 
which  way  to  turn,  he  heard  steps  as  of  some 
one  running,  and  perceived  his  cousin  hurrying 
through  the  bushes  in  the  direction  of  the 
shanty.  It  was  evident  by  his  disordered  air, 
and  the  hurried  glances  that  he  cast  over  his 
shoulder  from  time  to  time,  that  something  ua- 
usual  had  occurred  to  disturb  him. 

"  Halloo  I  Louis,  is  it  bear,  wolf,  or  catamount 
that  is  on  your  trail?"  cried  Hector,  almost 
amused  by  the  speed  with  which  his  cousin  hur- 
ried onward.     "  Why,  Louis,  whither  away  ?" 

Louis  now  turned  and  held  up  his  hand,  as  if 
to  enjoin  silence,  till  Hector  came  up  to  him. 

"Why,  man,  what  ails  you?  what  makes 
you  run  as  if  you  were  hunted  down  by  a  pack 
of  wolves  ?" 


THE   CANADIAN    t'RUSOK.S. 


155 


air, 
his 


"It  is  not  wolves,  or  bears  either,"  said  Louis, 
as  soon  as  he  could  get  breath  to  speak,  "but 
the  Indians  are  all  on  Bare-hill,  holding  a  war 
council,  I  suppose,  for  there  are  several  canoe- 
loads  of  them." 

"  How  came  you  to  see  them  ?" 

*'  I  must  tell  you  that  vrL«..  T  parted  from 
you  and  Cathy,  instead  c .'  goiu'^  down  to  my 
raft,  as  I  thought  at  first  I  woild  dv  I  followed 
the  deer  path  through  the  lii'  '•?  rav^e,  and  then 
ascending  the  side  of  the  va.ey,  I  crossed  the 
birch  grove,  and  kept  down  the  slope  within 
sight  of  the  creek.  While  I  was  looking  out 
upon  the  lake,  and  thinking  how  pretty  the 
islands  were,  rising  so  green  from  the  blue  water, 
I  was  surprised  by  seeing  several  dark  spots 
dotting  the  lake.  At  first,  you  may  be  sure,  I 
thought  they  must,  be  a  herd  of  deer,  only  they 
kept  too  far  apart,  so  I  sat  down  on  a  log  to 
watch,  thinking  if  they  turned  out  to  be  deer,  I 
would  race  off  for  you  and  Wolfe,  and  the  bows 
and  arrows,  that  we  might  try  our  chance  fc  > 
some  venison ;  but  as  the  black  specks  came 
nearer  and  nearer,  I  perceived  they  were  canoes 
with  Indians  in  them,  three  in  each.  They  made 
for  the  mouth  of  the  creek,  and  ran  ashore 
among  the  thick  bushes.  I  watched  them  with 
a  beating  heart,  and  lay  down  flat  lest  they 
tuoulu  spy  me  out ;  for  those  fellows  have  eyes 


i 


156 


THE   CANADIAN   CRUSOES. 


^^1 


ffs 


like  catamounts,  so  keen  and  wild— they  seo 
every  thing  without  seeming  to  cast  a  glance  on 
j  it.     Wall,  I  saw  them  wind  up  the  rid<^e  till 
,phey  reached  the  Bare-hill*     You  remember 
that  spot ;  we  called  it  so  from  its  barren  ap. 
pearance.     In  a  few  minutes  a  column  of  smoka 
rose  and  curled  among  the  pine-trees,  and  then 
another  and  another,  till  I  counted  five  fires 
burmng  brightly ;  and,  as  I  stood  on  the  high 
ground,  I  could  distinguish  the  figures  of  many 
naked  savages  moving  about,  running  to  and 
fro  like  a  parcel  of  black  ants  on  a  cedar  lo^  • 
and  by  and  by  I  heard  them  raise  a  yell  like  a 
pack  of  ravenous  wolves  on  a  deer  track.     It 
made  my  heart  leap  up  in  my  breast.     I  forgot 
all  the  schemes  that  had  just  got  into  my  wise 
head,  of  slipping  quietly  down,  and  taking  off 
one  of  the  empty  birch  canoes,  which  you  must 
own  would  have  been  a  glorious  thing  for  us  • 
but  when  I  heard  the  noise  these  wild  wretches 
raised,  I  darted  off,  and  ran  as  if  the  whole  set 
were  at  my  heels.    I  think  I  just  saved  my 
scalp."    And  Louis  put  his  hand  to  his  head,  and 
tugged  his  thick  black  curls,  as  if  to  ascertain 

*  Supposed  to  be  a  councU  hili  It  is  known  by  the  name 
of  Bnro-hiU,  from  the  singular  want  of  verdure  on  its  surface 
It  IB  one  of  the  steepest  on  the  ridge  above  the  little  creek- 
bemg  a  picturesque  object,  with  its  fine  pine-trees,  seen  tVom' 
Mr.  Hnyward's  gro-  ids,  and  forms,  I  believe,  a  part  of  hi» 
property. 


> 


THE   CANADIAN   CRUSOES, 


157 


that  they  were  still  safe  from  the  scalping-knives 
of  his  Indian  enemies. 

"  And  now,  Hec,  what  is  to  be  done  ?  We 
must  hide  ourselves  from  the  Indians ;  they  will 
kill  us,  or  take  us  away  with  them  if  thev  find 
us."  -^ 

"Let  us  go  home  and  talk  over  our  plana 
with  Cathy." 

"Yes;  for  I  have  heard  my  father  say  two 
heads  are  better  than  one,  and  so  three  of  course 
must  be  still  better  than  two." 

"Why,"  said  Hector,  laughing,  "it  depends 
upon  the  stock  of  practical  wisdom  in  the  heads, 
for  two  fools,  you  know,  Louis,  will  hardly  form 
one  rational  plan." 

Various  were  the  schemes  devised  for  their 
security.  Hector  propo?,ed  pulling  down  the 
shanty,  and  dispersing  the  logs,  so  as  to  leave 
no  trace  of  the  little  dwelling ;  but  to  this  neither 
his  cousin  nor  his  sister  would  agree.  To  pull 
down  the  new  house  that  had  cost  them  so  much 
labour,  and  which  had  proved  such  a  comfort  to 
them,  they  could  not  endure  even  in  idea. 

"  Let  us  put  out  the  fire,  and  hide  ourselves 
in  the  big  ravine  below  Mount  Ararat,  dig  a 
cave  in  one  of  the  hills,  and  convey  our  house' 
hold  goods  thither."    Such  was  Louis's  plan. 

"The  ravines  would  be  searched  directly,'' 
raggested  Hector ;  "  besides,  the  Indians  know 
14 


mamm 


168 


THE   CANADIAN  CRUSOES. 


they  are  famous  coverts  for  deer  and  game  of  all 
sorts ;  they  might  chance  to  pop  upon  us,  and 
oatch  us  like  woodchucks  in  a  burrow." 

"Yes,  and  burn  us,"  said  Catharine,  with  a 
shudder.     "  I  know  the  path  that  leads  direct  to 
the  '  Happy  Valley,'  (the  name  she  had  given 
to  the  low  flat,  now  known  as  the  '  lower  Race- 
course,') and  it  is  not  far  from  here,  only  ten 
min-utes'  walk  in  a  straight  line.     We  can  con- 
ceal   ourselves  below  the  steep  bank  that  we 
descended  the  other  uay  ;  and  there  are  several 
springs  of  fresh  water  and  plenty  of  nuts  and 
berries;    and    the    trees,  though  few,   are  so 
thickly  covered  with  close  spreading  branches 
that  touch  the  very  ground,  that  we  might  hide 
ourselves  from  a  hundred  eyes  were  they  ever 
so  cunning  and  prying." 

Catharine's  counsel  was  deemed  the  most 
prudent,  and  the  boys  immediately  busied  them- 
selves with  hiding  under  the  broken  branches 
of  a  prostrate  tree  such  articles  as  they  could  not 
conveniently  carry  away,  leaving  the  rest  to 
chance;  with  the  most  valuable  they  loaded 
themselves,  and  guided  by  Catharine,  who, 
with  her  dear  o^ '  dog,  marched  forward  along 
the  narrow  footpath  that  had  been  made  by 
some  wild  animals,  probably  deer,  in  their  pas- 
sage  from  the  lake  to  their  feeding-place,  or 
— _   — .eitsi 


■u-is.    etix:   iKJW    am 


3A<gu 


piamj 


THE  CANADIAN   ORUSOES. 


169 


wrhere,  being  quite  open,  and  almost,  in  parts, 
free  from  tvo.es,  the  grass  and  herbage  were 
sweeter  and  more  abundant,  and  the  springs  of 
water  fresh  and  cool. 

Catharine  cast  many  a  fearful  glance  through 
the  brushwood  as  they  moved  on\v  .rd,  but  saw- 
no  living  thing,  excepting  a  family  of  chitminks 
gayly  chasing  each  other  along  a  fallen  braucn, 
and  a  covey  of  quails,  that  were  feeding  quietly 
on^  the  red  berries  of  the  Mitchella  repens,  or 
twinberry,*  as  it  is  commonly  called,  of  which 
the  partridges  and  quails  are  extremely  fond ; 
for  nature,  with  liberal  hand,  has  spread  abroad 
her  bounties  for  the  small  denizens,  furred  or 
feathered,  that  haunt  the  Rice  Lake  and  its 
flowery  shores. 

After  a  continued  but  gentle  ascent  through 
the  oak  opening,  they  halted  at  the  foot  of°a 
majestic  pine,  and  looked  round  them.  It  was 
a  lovely  spot  as  any  they  had  seen ;  from  west 
to  east,  the  lake,  beading  like  a  silver  crescent, 
lay  betv/een  the  boundary  hills  of  forest  trees ; 
in  front,  the  long  lines  of  undulating  wood- 
covered  heights  faded  away  into  mist,  and 
blended  with  the  horizon.  To  the  east,  a  deep 
and  fertile  valley  lay  between  the  high  lands, 

^  •  Also  partridge-berry  and  oheckor-berry,  a  lovely  creeping 
win*«r-green,  with  white  fragrant  flowers,  and  douhla  sa.».?!sl 
beiTjr, 


I 
1 


160 


THE   CANADIAN   CRUSOES. 


on  whicli  they  rested,  and  the  far  ridge  of  oak 
hills.  From  their  vantage  height,  they  could 
distinguish  the  outline  of  the  Bare-hill,  made 
more  distinct  by  its  flickering  fires  and  the 
smoke  wreaths  that  hung  like  a  pearly-tinted 
robe  among  the  dark  pines  that  grew  upon  its 
crest.  Not  long  tarrying  did  our  fugitives 
make,  though  perfectly  safe  from  detection  by 
the  distance  and  their  shaded  position,  for  many 
a  winding  vale  and  wood-crowned  height  lay 
between  them  and  the  encampment. 

But  fear  is  not  subject  to  the  control  of  reason 
and   in  the  present  instance  it  invested   the 
dreaded  Indians  with  superhuman  powers  of 
sight  and  of  motion.     A  few  minutes'  hasty 
flight  brought  our  travellers  to  the  brow  of  a 
precipitous  bank,  nearly  a  hundred  feet  above 
the  level  open  plain  which  they  sought.     Here, 
then,  they  felt  comparatively  safe:  they  were 
out  of  sight  of  the  camp  fires,  the  spot  they  had 
chosen  was  open,  and  flight,  in  case  of  the  ap- 
proach of  the  Indians,  not  difficult,  while  hiding- 
places  were  easy  of  access.     They  found  a  deep, 
sheltered  hollow  in  the  bank,  where  two  mighty 
pines  had  been  torn  up  by  the  roots,  and  proS' 
trated  headlong  down  the  steep,  forming  a  regu= 
lar  cave,  roofed  by  the  earth  and  fibres  that  had 
been  uplifted  in  their  fall.     Pendent  from  these 
roots  hung  a  luxuriant  curtain  of  wild  grape- 


THE   CANADIAN   ORUSOES. 


161 


vines  and  other  creepers,  which  formed  a  leafy- 
screen,  through  which  the   most  curious  eye 
could  scarcely  penetrate.     This  friendly  vege- 
table veil  seemed  as  if  provided  for  their  con- 
cealment,   and  they  carefully  abstained  from 
disturbing  the  pendent  foliage,  lest  they  should, 
by  so  doing,  betray  their  hiding-place  to  their 
enemies.     They  found  plenty  of  long  grass,  and 
abundance  of  long,  soft  green  moss  and  ferns 
near  a  small  grove  of  poplars,  which  surrounded 
a  spring  of  fine  water.     They  ate  some  dried 
frrit  and  smoked  fish,  and  drank  some  of  the 
clear  spring;   and   after  they  hafl   said  their 
evening  prayers,  they  laid  down  to  sleep,  Catha- 
rine's head  pillowe  i  on  the  neck  of  her  faithful 
guardian,  Wolfe.     In  the  middle  of  the  night  a 
startling  sound,  as  of  some  heavy  body  falling, 
wakened  them  all  simultaneously.     The  night 
was  so  dark  they  could  see  nothing,  and  terror- 
struck,  they  sat  gazing  into  the  impenetrable 
darkness  cf  their  cave,  not  even  daring  to  speak 
to  each  other,  hardly  even  to  breathe.     Wolfe 
_  gave  a  low  grumbling  bark,  and  resumed  his 
couchant  posture  as  if  nothing  worthy  of  his 
attention  was  near  to  cause  the  disturbance. 
Catharine  trembled  and  wept,  and  prayed  for 
safety  against  the  Indians  and  beasts  of  prey, 
and  Hector  and  Louis  listened,  till  they  fell 
aaieep  in  spite  of  their  fears.     In  the  morning, 

14* 


THE  CANADIAN   CRUSOKS. 

it  seemed  as  if  tliey  huid  dreamed  some  terrible 
dream,  so  vague  were  their  recollection^:  of  ilie 
fright  they  had  had,  but  the  cau.^e  was  soon 
perceived.  A  large  stone  =hat  had  Veen  heaved 
up  with  the  clay  that  adhered  to  the  roots  and 
fibres,  had  been  loosened,  avil  had  fallen  on  the 
groimd;  close  to  the  spot  where  Catharine  ;ay. 
So  pondorous  was  the  mass,  that  had  it  struck 
her,  dea*l;  inu?":  have  been  the  consequence  of 
the  blow ;  -aid  Hf,ctoi-  and  Louis  beheld  it  with 
fear  and  anir^j:- jment,  while  Catharine  regarded 
it  113  a  proof  of  Divine  mercy  and  protection 
from  Him  iu  whose  hand  her  safety  lay.  The 
boys,  warned  by  this  accident,  carefully  re- 
moved several  large  stones  from  the  roof,  and 
tried  the  safety  of  their  clay  walls  with  a  stout 
Btafl^  to  ascertain  that  all  was  secure,  before 
they  again  ventured  to  sleep  beneath  this 
rugged  canopy. 


THE  CANADIAN  CBU30ES. 


168 


;  ! 


CHAPTEE   V. 

"  The  soul  of  the  wicked  desireth  evil;  his  neighbour  fludeth 
no  favour  in  his  sight." — Proverbs. 

Tj^OR  several  days  they  abstained  from  light- 
■^  ing  a  fire,  lest  the  smoke  should  be  seen  ;  but 
this,  the  great  height  of  the  bank  would  have 
effectually  prevented.  They  suffered  much  cold 
at  night  from  the  copious  dews,  which,  even  on 
sultry  summer  evenings,  is  productive  of  much 
chilling.  They  could  not  account  for  the  fact 
that  the  air,  at  night,  was  much  warmer  on  the 
high  hills  than  in  the  low  valleys ;  they  were 
even  sensible  of  a  rush  of  heat  as  they  ascended 
to  the  higher  ground.  These  simple  children 
had  not  been  taught  that  it  is  the  nature  of  the 
heated  air  to  ascend,  and  its  place  to  be  supplied 
by  the  colder  and  denser  particles.  They  no- 
ticed the  effects,  but  understood  nothing  of  the 
causes  that  ruled  them. 

The  following  days  they  procured  several 
partridges,  but  feared  to  cook  them ;  however, 
they  plucked  them,  split  them  open,  and  dried 
the  flesh  for  a  future  day.  A  fox  or  racoon, 
attracted  by  the  smell  of  the  birds,  came  one 
nd  carried  them  off,  for  in  the  morning 


f 


1 


"O' 


164 


THE  CANADIAN   CRUSOES. 


they  were  gone.     They  saw  several  herd  of  deer 
crosnng  the  plain,  and  one  day  Wolfe  tracked 
a  wounded  doe  to  a  covert  under  the  poplars 
near  a  hidden  spring,  where  she  had  lain  herself 
down  to  die  in  peace,  far  from  the  haunts  of  her 
fellows.     The  arrow  was  in  her  throat ;  it  was 
of  white  flint,  and  had  evidently  been  sent  from 
an  Indian  bow.     It  was  almost  with  fear  and 
trembhng  that  they  availed  themselves  of  the 
vemson  thus    providentially   thrown   in   their 
way,  lest  the  Indians  should  track  the  blood  of 
the  doe,  and  take  vengeance  on  them  for  appro- 
priating it  for  their  own  use.     Not  having  seen 
any  thing  of  the  Indians,  who  seemed  to  confine 
themselves  to  the  neighbourhood  of  the  lake 
after  many  days  had  passed,  they  began  to  take 
courage,  and  even  lighted  an  evening  fire  at 
which  they  cooked  as  much  venison  as  would 
last  them  for  several  days,  and  hung  the  remain- 
mg  portions  above  the  smoke  to  preserve  it  from 
injury. 

One  morning.  Hector  proclaimed  his  intention 
of  ascending  the  hills,  in  the  direction  of  the 
Indian  camp.  "  I  am  tired  of  remaining  shut  up 
m  this  dull  place,  where  we  can  see  nothing  but 
this  dead  flat,  bounded  by  those  melancholy 
pines  in  the  distance  that  seem  to  shut  us  in." 
^  Little  did  Hector  know  that  beyond  that  dark 
ndge  of  pine  hills  lav  t.hA  linm^  «f  fU^:»  .i-.-i j 


THE  CANADIAN   CRUSOES. 


166 


hood,  and  but  a  few  miles  of  forest  intervened 
to  hide  it  from  their  sight.  Had  he  known  it, 
how  eagerly  would  his  feet  have  pressed  on- 
ward in  the  direction  of  that  dark  barrier  of 
evergreens  I 

Thus  is  it  often  in  this  life :  we  wander  on, 
sad  and  perplexed,  our  path  beset  with  thorns 
and  briers.  We  cannot  see  our  way  clear; 
doubts  and  apprehensions  assail  us.  We  know 
not  how  near  we  are  to  the  fulfilment  of  our 
wishes ;  we  see  only  the  insurmountable  bar- 
riers, the  dark  thickets  and  thorns  of  our  way ; 
and  we  know  not  how  near  we  are  to  our  Fa- 
ther's home,  where  He  is  waiting  to  welcome  the 
wanderers  of  the  flock  back  to  the  everlasting 
home,  the  fold  of  the  Good  Shepherd. 

Hector  became  impatient  of  the  restraint  that 
the  dread  of  the  Indians  imposed  upon  his 
movements :  he  wanted  to  see  the  lake  again ; 
and  to  roam  abroad  free  and  uncontrolled. 

"  After  all,"  said  he ;  "  we  never  met  with 
any  ill  treatment  from  the  Indians  that  used  to 
visit  us  at  Cold  Springs ;  we  may  even  find  old 
friends  and  acquaintances  among  them." 

"  The  thing  is  possible,  but  not  very  likely," 
replied  Louis.  "  Nevertheless,  Hector,  I  would 
not  willingly  put  myself  in  their  power.  The 
Indian  has  his  own  notion  of  things,  and  might 
fch 


ma.  muxscJ.! 


us,  11    uv 


166 


THR  CaIJAPVAN  CBUSOES. 


found  us  on  hi  s  hunting-grounds.''*  I  have  heard 
my  father  say,— and  he  knows  a  great  deal 
about  then'  people.—that  their  chiefs  are  very 
strict  in  punishing  any  &tn.v<rcT^  "  ^}^Qy  ^^^ 
killing  game  on  their  bounds  uninvited.  They 
are  both  merciless  and  treacherous  when  anger- 
ed, aud  we  could  not  even  speak  to  them°  in 
their  own  language,  to  explain  by  what  chance 
we  <i£.me  here." 

This  was  very  prudent  of  Louis,  uncommonly 
so,  for  one  who  was  naturally  rash  and  head- 
strong, but  unfortunately  Hector  was  inflexible 
and  wilful:  when  once  he  h.d  made  up  his 
mind  upon  any  point,  he  ,ad  too  good  an  opin- 
ion of  his  own  judgment  to  give  it  up.  At  last, 
he  declarer  his  intention,  rather  than  remain  a 
slave  to  such  cowardly  fears  as  he  now  deemed 
them,  to  go  forth  boldly,  and  endeavour  to  as- 
certain what  the  Indians  were  about,  Low  many 
there  were  of  them,  and  what  -eal  danger  was 
to  be  apprehenc'   1  frorp  facing    heci. 

♦  George  Copway,  en  intelligent  Rice  Lakf  Indian,  snys  the 
Indian  hunting-grounds  are  parcelled  out,  and  seeured  bv  right 
of  law  and  custom  amor.j;  tBomsolves,  no  on^  being  nllo'=  ed  to 
Lv.nt  upon  another's  grom.U  uninvited.  If  ,ny  one  belonging 
to  another  family  or  tribe  is  found  treapaa-  /rr,  all  his  '^oods 
are  taken  from  him  ;  a  handful  of  powder  u,  [  shot,  as  much  as 
he  would  need  to  shoot  game  for  '  -  sust.  jnnce  in  returning 
Bjraight  home,  and  his  gun,  knife,  .  on  awk  only  are  left, 
kut  aU  his  game  and  fnrs  are  take  rom  -n ;  a  message  ia 
Bent  to  hui  chief,  and  if  he  transgres.-,  a  ti  .lu  time,  he  is  ban- 
l»hed  and  outlaw«d.-Zi/9  0/ <?.  Qypivav.  tenfUn  h/humi 


THE   CANADIAN   CRUSOES. 


1«7 


*'  Depend  upon  it,"  he  added,  "  cowards  are 
never  safer  than  brave  men.  The  Indians  de- 
spise cowards,  and  would  be  more  likely  to  kill 
us  if  they  found  us  cowering  here  in  this  hole 
like  a  ]>arcel  of  wolf-cubs,  than  if  we  openly 
faced  them  and  showed  that  we  neither  feared 
them,  nor  cared  for  them." 

"  Hector,  dear  Hector,  be  not  so  rash  1"  cried 
his  sister,  passionately  weeping.  "  Ah  I  if  we 
were  to  lose  you,  what  would  become  of  us?" 

*'  Never  fear,  Kate ;  I  will  run  into  no  need- 
less danger.  I  know  how  to  take  care  of  myself. 
I  aai  of  opinion  that  the  Indian  camp  is  broken 
np ;  they  seldom  stay  long  in  one  place.  I  will 
i^  over  the  hills  and  examine  the  camp  at  a 
distance  and  the  lake  shore.  You  and  Louis 
ma^  .eep  watch  for  my  return  from  the  big 
pine  that  ^ -e  halted  under  on  our  way  hither." 

"  But,  tor,  if  the  savages  should  see  you, 
and  take  you  prisoner,"  said  Catharine,  "  what 
would  you  do  ?" 

"  I  will  tell  you  what  I  would  do.  Instead 
of  running  away,  I  would  boldly  walk  up  to 
them,  and  by  aigns  make  them  understand  that 
I  am  no  scout,  but  a  friend  in  need  of  nothing 
but  kindness  and  friendship.  I  never  yet  heard 
of  the  Indmn  that  would  tomahawk  the  defence- 
less stranger  that  sought  his  camp  openly  in 
peace  an^  good-will." 


168 


THE   CANADIAN   CRUSOfiS. 


"  If  you  do  not  return  by  sunset,  Hector,  we 
shall  believe  tl  it  you  have  fallen  into  the  hands 
of  the  savages,"  said  Catharine,  mournfully  re- 
garding her  brother. 

"  If  it  were  not  for  Catharine,"  said  Louis, 
"you  should  not  go  alone  ;  but  if  evil  befell  this 
helpless  one,  her  blood  would  be  upon  my  head, 
who  led  her  out  with  us,  tempting  her  with 
false  words." 

"  Never  mind  that  now,  dearest  cousin,"  said 
Catharine,  tenderly  laying  her  hand  on  his  arm. 
"  It  is  much  better  that  we  should  have  been  all 
three  together ;  I  should  never  have  been  happy 
again  if  I  had  lost  both  Hcc  and  you.  It  is 
better  as  it  is ;  you  and  Hec  would  not  have 
been  so  well  off  if  I  had  not  been  with  you  to 
help  you,  and  keep  up  your  spirits  by  my  songs 
and  stories." 

"  It  is  true,  ma  ch^re  ;  but  that  is  the  reason 
that  I  am  bound  to  take  care  of  my  little  cousin, 
and  I  could  not  consent  to  exposing  you  to  dan- 
ger, or  leaving  you  alone  ;  so,  if  Hec  will  be  so 
headstrong,  I  will  abide  by  you." 

Hector  was  so  confident  that  he  should  return 
in  safety,  that  at  last  Louis  and  Catharine  be- 
came more  reconciled  to  his  leaving  them,  and 
soon  busied  themselves  in  preparing  some  squir- 
rels that  Louis  had  brought  in  that  morning. 

The  day  wore  away  slowly,  and  many  were 


I 


THE   CANADIAN  CRUSOES. 


169 


ilK 


the  anxious  glances  that  Catharine  cast  over  the 
crest  of  the  high  bank  to  watch  for  her  brother's 
return;  at  last,  unable  to  endure  the  suspense, 
she  with  Louis  left  the  shelter  of  the  valley;' 
they  ascended  the  high  ground,  and  bent  their 
stepaiK)  the  trysting  tree,  which  commanded  all 
the  country  within  a  wide  sweep. 

A  painful  and  oppressive  sense  of  loneliness 
and  desolation  came  over  the  minds  of  the 
cousins  as  they  sat  together  at  the  foot  of  the 
pine,  which  cast  its  lengthened  shadow  upon 
the  ground  before  them.  The  shades  of  evening 
were  shrouding  them,  wrapping  the  lonely  forest 
in  gloom.  The  full  moon  had  not  yet  risen,  and 
they  watched  for  the  first  gleam  that  should 
break  above  the  eastern  hills  to  cheer  them,  as 
for  the  coming  of  a  friend. 

Sadly  these  two  poor  lonely  ones  sat  hand  in 
hand,  talking  of  the  happy  days  of  childhood, 
of  the  perplexing  present,  and  the  uncertain  fu- 
ture. At  last,  wearied  out  with  watching  and 
anxiety,  Catharine  leaned  her  head  upon  the  ^' 
neck  of  old  Wolfe  and  fell  asleep,  while  Louis  - 
restlessly  paced  to  and  fro  in  front  of  the  sleeper ; 
now  straining  his  eye  to  penetrate  the  surround- 
ing gloom,  now  straining  his  ear  to  catch  the 
first  sound  that  might  irdicPte  the  approach  of 
his  absent  cousin. 

It  was  almost  with  a  fe-elino'  of  irritability 
Id 


170 


THE   CANADIAN    CRUSOE^ 


that  he  heard  the  quick,  sharp  note  of  the 
wakefu]  "whip-poor-will,"  as  she  flew  from 
bough  to  bough  of  an  old  withered  tree  besido 
him.  Anothei-,  and  again  ^mother  of  these 
midnight  watchers  took  up  the  monotonous 
never-yarying  cry  of  "Whip-poor-will,  phip- 
poor- will ;"  and  then  came  forth,  from  many  a 
hollow  oak  and  birch,  the  spectral  nighthawk 
from  hidden  dens,  where  it  had  lain  hushed  in 
silence  all  day,  from  dawn  till  sunset.  Sometimes 
their  sharp,  hard  wings  almost  swept  his  cheek, 
as  they  wheeled  round  and  round  in  circles, 
first  narrow,  then  wide,  and  wider  extending,  till 
at  last  they  soared  far  above  the  tallest  tree-tops, 
and  launching  out  in  the  high  regions  of  the 
air,  uttered  from  time  to  time  a  wild,  shrill 

'•;  scream,  or  hollow  booming  sound,  as  they  sud- 
denly descended  to  pounce  with  wide-extended 
throat  upon  some  hapless  moth  or  insect,  that 
sported  all  unheeding  in  mid  air,  happily  uncon- 
scious of  the  approach  of  so  unerring  a  foe. 

#  Petulantly  Louis  chid  these  discordant  miu' 
strels  of  the  night,  and  joyfully  he  hitiled  the 
first  gush  of  moonlight  that  rose  broad  and  full 
and  red  over  the  Oak-hills  to  the  eastward. 

Louis  envied  the  condition  of  the  unconscious 
sleeper,  who  lay  in  happy  forgetfulness  of  all 
her  sorrows,  her  fair  curls  spread  in  unbound 
luxuriance  over  the  dark,  shaggy  neck  of  t^e 


THE  CAK  ADIAN  CRUSOES. 


m 


i4& 


faithful  Wolle,  wiio  seemed  as  if  proud  of  tha 
beloved  burden  that  rested  so  trustingly  upon 
him  Sometimes  the  careful  dog  just  unclosed 
his  large  eyes,  raised  his  nose  from  his  sha^^v 
paws,  snuffed  the  night  air,  growled  in  a  sort  of 
under  tone,  and  dosed  again,  but  watchfully 

It  would  be  no  easy  task  to  tell  the  painful 
feelings  that  agitated  young  Louis's  breast.    He 
was  angry  with  Hector  for  having  thus  madly 
a.  he  thought,  rushed  into  danger.     "It  was 
wilful  and  almost  cruel,"  he  thought  "to  leave 
them  the  prey  of  such  tormenting  fears  on  his 
account ;    and  then  the  most  painful  fears  for  the 
safety  of  his  beloved  companion  took  the  place 
of  less  kindly  thoughts,  and  sorrow  filled  his 
heart.     The  broad  moon  now  flooded  the  hills 
and  vrles  with  light,  casting  broad,  checkering 
shadows  of  the  old  oaks'  grey  branches  and  now 
reddened  foliage  across  ihe  ground 

Suddenly  the  old  dog  raises  his  head,  and 
u.ters  a  shcit  half  angry  note:  slowly  and 
careful^r  he  rises,  disengaging  himself  gentlv 

forth  in  the  fu)l  light  of  the  moon.  It  is  an 
open,  cleared  space,  that  mound  beneath  the 
pine-tree;  a  few  low  shrubs  and  seedling  pines 
with  the  slender  waving  branches  of  the  late! 
flowenng  pearly  tinted  asters,  the"  elegant 
«-^e--    g^uaa,    wiia.   open    bells  of   azurw 


172 


THE   CANADIAN  CRUSOES. 


il 


i 

l!       1 


blue,  the  last  and  loveliest  of  the  fall  flowers  and 
winter-greens,  brighten  the  ground  with  wreaths 
of  shining  leaves  and  red  berries. 

Louis  is  on  the  alert,  though  as  yet  he  sees 
nothing.  It  is  not  a  full,  free  note  of  welcome 
that  Wolfe  gives ;  there  is  something  uneasy  and 
half  angry  in  his  tone.  Yet  it  is  not  fierce,  like 
the  bark  of  angry  defiance  he  gives,  when  wolf, 
or  bear,  or  wolverine  is  near. 

Louis  steps  forward  from  the  shadow  of  the 
pine  branches  to  the  edge  of  the  inclined  plane 
in  the  foreground.  The  slow  tread  of  approach- 
ing steps  is  now  distinctly  heard  advancing 
— it  may  be  a  deer.  Two  figures  approach, 
and  Louis  moves  a  little  within  the  shadow 
again.  A  clear,  shrill  whistle  meets  his  ear. 
It  is  Hector's  whistle,  he  knows  that,  and  assured 
by  its  cheerful  tone  he  springs  forward  and  in 
an  instant  is  at  his  side,  but  starts  at  the  strange 
companion  that  he  half  leads,  half  carries.  The 
moonlight  streams  broad  and  bright  upon  the 
shrinking  figu"  ^  of  an  Indian  girl,  apparently 
about  the  same  age  as  Catharine  •  her  ashy  face 
is  concealed  by  the  long  masses  of  raven  black 
hair,  which  falls  like  a  dark  veil  over  her 
features;  her  step  is  weak  and  unsteady,  and 
she  seems  ready  to  sink  to  the  earth  with 
sickness  or  fatigue.     Hector,  too,  seems  weary. 


h 


!.l 


•^ 


->«iS''*^. 


fl 


THE   CANADIAN  CBUSOES. 


ITS 


me,  Louis,  to  lead  this  poor  girl  to  the  foot 
of  the  pine ;  I  am  so  tired  I  can  hardly  walk 
another  step." 

Louis  and  his  cousin  together  carried  the 
Indian  girl  to  the  foot  of  the  pine.  Catharine 
was  just  rousing  herself  from  sleep,  and  she 
gp.zed  with  a  bewildered  air  on  the  strange 
companion  that  Hector  had  brought  with  him. 
The  stranger  lay  down,  and  in  a  few  minutes 
sank  into  a  sleep  so  profound  it  seemed  to 
resemble  that  of  death  itself.  Pity  and  deep 
interest  soon  took  the  place  of  curiosity  and 
dread  in  the  heart  of  the  gentle  Catharine,  and 
she  watched  the  young  stranger's  slumber  as 
tenderly  as  though  she  had  been  a  si.^ter  or 
beloved  friend,  while  Hector  proceeded  to  relate 
in  what  manner  he  had  encountered  the  Indian 
girl.  . 

^  "  When  I  struck  the  high  slope  near  the  little 
birch  grove  we  called  the  ' Birken-shaw,'  I 
paused  to  examine  if  the  council  fires  were  still 
burning  on  Bare-hill,  but  there  was  no  smoke 
visible,  neither  was  there  a  canoe  to  be  seen 
at  the  lake  shore  where  Louis  had  described  * 
their  landing-place  at  the  mouth  of  the  creek. 
All  seemed  as  silent  and  still  as  if  no  human 
footstep  had  trodden  the  shore.  I  sat  down  and 
watched  for  nearly  an  hour  till  my  attention 
waa  attracled  by  a  noble  eagle,  which  was 
15* 


iU 


THE   CANADIAN  CRUSOfiS, 


Bailing  in  wide  circles  over  the  tall  pine-trees 
on  Bare-hill.  Assured  that  the  Indian  camp 
was  broken  up,  and  feeling  some  curiosity  to 
examine  the  spot  more  closely,  I  crossed  the 
thicket  of  cranberries  and  cedars  and  small 
underwood  that  fringed  the  borders  of  the  little 
stream,  and  found  myself,  after  a  little  pushing 
and  scrambling,  among  the  bushes  at  the  foot 
of  the  hill. 

"I  thought  it  not  impossible  I  might  find 
Bomething  to  repay  me  for  my  trouble— flint 
arrow-heads,  a  knife,  or  a  tomahawk— but  I 
little  thought  of  what  these  cruel  savages  hi\d 
left  there,— a  miserable  wounded  captive,  bound 
by  the  long  locks  of  her  hair  to  the  stem  of  a. 
small  tree,  her  hands,  tied  by  thongs  of  hide  to 
branches  which  they  had  bent  down  to  fasten 
them  to  her  feet,  bound  fast  to  the  same  tree  as 
that  against  which  her  head  was  fastened ;  her 
position  was  one  that   must  have  been  most 
painful:  she  had  evidently  been  thus  left  to 
perish  by  a  miserable  death,   of  hunger  and 
thirst;  for  these  savages,  with  fiendish  cruelty, 
had    placed  within  sight  of  their  victim  an 
earthen  jar  of  water,  some  dried  deer's  flesh, 
and  a  cob*  of  Indian  corn.     I  have  the  corn 
here,"  he  added,  putting  his  hand  in  his  breast, 
and  displaying  it  to  view. 

a.  ussd  of  ths  iiAiio,  oi-  ludiaa  corn,  is  oailed  a  «•  oob.'* 


li 


THE  CANADIAN  CRUS0K3. 


175 


"  Wounded  she  was,  for  I  drew  this  arrow 
from  her  shoulder,"  and  he  showed  the  flint 
head  as  he  spoke,  "  and  fettered ;  with  food  an6 
drink  in  sight,  the  poor  girl  was  to  perish,  per 
haps  to  become  a  living  prey  to  the  wolf  and 
the  eagle  that  I  saw  wheeling  above  the  hill 
top.     The  poor  thing's  lipa^  were  black  and 
parched  with  pain  and  thirst;  she  turned  hei 
eyes  piteously  from  my  fece  to  the  water  jar  a? 
if  to  implore  a  draught.    This  I  gave  her,  and 
then  having  cooled  the  festering  wound,  and  cut 
the  thongs  that  bound  her,  I  wondered  that  sht 
still  kept  the  same  immovable  attitude,  and 
thinking  she  was  stiff  and  cramped  with  re 
maiuing  so  long  bound  in  one  position,  I  took 
her  two  hands  and  tried  to  induce  her  to  movA, 
I  then  for  the  first  time  noticed  that  she  waa 
tied  by  the  hair  of  her  h   id  to  the  tree  aguinst 
which  her  back  was  placed;  T  was  obliged  to 
cut  the  hair  with  my  knife,  ana  this  I  did  not 
do  without  giving  her  pain,  as  she  moaned 
impatiently.     She  sunk  her  head  on  her  breast, 
and  large  tears  fell  over  my  hands  as  I  bathed 
lier  face  and  neck  with  the  water  from  the  jar; 
she  then  seated  herself  on  the  ground,  and  re- 
mained silent  and  still  for  the  space  of  an  hour, 
nor  could  I  prevail  upon  her  to  speak,  or  quit 
the  seat  she  had  taken.     Fearing  that  the  In- 
diaus  might  return,  I  watched  in  all  directions, 


176 


THE   CANADIAN  CRUSOES. 


and  at  last  I  began  to  think  it  would  be  best 
to  carry  her  in  my  arms;  but  this  I  found  no 
easy  task,  for  she  seemed  greatly  distressed  at 
any  attempt  I  made  to  lift  her,  and  by  her  ges- 
tures I  fancy  she  thought  I  was  going  to  kill 
her.  At  last  my  patience  began  to  be  exhausted, 
but  I  did  not  like  to  annoy  her.  I  spoke  to 
her  as  gently  and  soothingly  as  I  could.  By  de- 
grees she  seemed  to  listen  with  more  composure 
to  me,  though  she  evidently  knew  not  a  word 
of  what  I  said  to  her.  She  rose  at  last,  and 
taking  my  hands,  p.  )ed  them  above  her  head, 
stooping  low  as  she  did  so,  and  this  seemed  to 
mean,  she  was  willing  at  last  to  submit  to  my 
wishes ;  I  lifted  her  from  the  ground,  and  carried 
her  for  some  little  way,  but  she  was  too  heavy 
for  me,— she  then  suffered  me  to  lead  her  along 
whithersoever  I  would  take  her,  but  her  steps 
were  so  slow  and  feeble,  through  weakness,  that 
many  times  I  was  compelled  to  rest  while  she 
recovered  herself.  She  seems  quite  subdued 
now,  and  as  quiet  as  a  lamb." 

Catharine  listened,  not  without  tears  of  genuine 
sympathy,  to  the  recital  of  her  brotner's  adven- 
tures.  She  seemed  to  think  he  had  been  in- 
spired by  God  to  go  forth  that  day  to  the  Indian 
camp,  to  rescue  the  poor  forlorn  one  from  so 
dreadful  a  death. 


./•*lTia'ri 


.il.. 


■jiii-^-a„i^if   vvas  euSij  y^anuiiy  tti'uuseci 


THE   CANADIAN  CRUSOES. 


177 


for  the  young  savage,  and  he  commended  Hector 
for  his  bravery  and  humanity. 

He  then  set  to  work  to  L'ght  a  good  fire, 
which  was  a  great  addition  to  their  comfort  as 
well  as  cheerfulness.  They  did  not  go  back  to 
their  cave  beneath  the  upturned  trees,  to  sleep, 
preferring  lying,  with  their  feet  to  the  fire,  under 
the  shade  of  the  pine.  Louis,  however,  jyas 
despatched  for  water  and  venison  for  slipper. 

The  following  morning,  by  break  of  day,  they 
collected  their  stores,  and  conveyed  them  back 
to  the  shanty.  The  boys  were  thus  employed, 
while  Catharine  watched  beside  the  wounded 
Indian  girl,  whom  she  tended  with  the  greatest 
care.  She  bathed  the  inflamed  arm  with  water, 
and  bound  the  cool,  healing  leaves  of  the 
tacamahac'^  about  it  with  the  last  fragment  of  her 
apron ;  she  steeped  dried  berries  in  water,  and 
gave  the  cooling  drink  to  quench  the  fever- 
thirst  that  burned  in  her  veins  and  glittered  in 
her  full,  soft  melancholy  dark  eyes,  which  were 
raised  at  intervals  to  the  face  of  her  youthful 
nurse,  with  a  timid  hurried  glance,  as  if  she 
longed,  yet  feared  to  say,  "  Who  are  you  that 
thus  tenderly  bathe  my  aching  head,  and  strive 
to  sooth  my  wounded  limbs,  and  cool  my  fevered 
blood  ?  Are  you  a  creature  like  myself,  or  a 
being  sent  by  the  Great  Spirit,  from  tue  far-off 

*  Indian  balsam. 


178 


THE  CANADIAN   CRUSOES. 


happy  land  to  which  my  fathers  have  gone,  to 
Bmooth  my  path  of  pain,  and  lead  me  to  those 
blessed  fields  of  sunbeams  and  flowers  where 
the  cruelty  of  the  enemies  of  my  people  will  no 
more  have  power  to  torment  me  ?" 


1 1 


if 


t 


le,  to 
:hose 
'here 
lino 


THS   CANADIAN   CHUSOES. 


CHAPTER   VI. 


179 


"  Here  the  wren  of  Roftest  note 

Builds  its  nest  and  wnrblo.s  well ; 
Here  the  blackbird  strains  its  throat ; 
Welcome,  welcome  to  our  cell." — CoLKRioaK. 

nnHE  day  was  far  advanced  before  the  sick 
-■-    Indian  girl  could   be  brought   home   to 
their  sylvan  lodge,  where  Catharine  made  up  a 
comfortable  couch  for  her,  with   boughs  and 
grass,  and  spread  one  of  the  deer-skins  over  it, 
and  laid  her  down  as  tenderly  and  carefully  as 
if  she  had  been  a  dear  sister.   This  good  girl  was 
overjoyed  at  having  found  a  companion  of  her 
own  age  and  sex.     "  Now,"  said  she,  "  I  shall  no 
more  be  lonely,  I  shall  have  a  companion  and 
friend  to  talk  to  and  assist  me ;"  but  when  sha 
turned  in  the  fulness  of  her  heart  to  address 
herself  to  the  young  stranger,  she  felt  herself 
embarrassed  in  what  way  to  make  her  com- 
prehend the  words  she  used  to  express  the  kind- 
ness  that  she  felt  for  her,  and  her  sorrow  for 
her  sufferings. 

The  young  stranger  would  raise  her  head, 
look  intently  at  her,  as  if  striving  to  interpret 
"^x  TTvawo,  tut;ii  Bitui^-  Biiiiice  ner  neaa,  ana  utter 


.<V3 


IMAGE  EVALUATION 
TEST  TARGET  (MT-3) 


1.0 


I.I 


1.25 


■-  ilia 

|50     ™"= 

iU 


M 

2.2 


i/-  IIIIIM 

Ill  1.8 
U   11.6 


Photographic 

Sdences 
Corporation 


23  WEST  MAIN  STREET 

WEBSTER,  N.Y.  M5B0 

(716)  872-4503 


;    h 


■'li 


180 


THE   CANADIAN   CRUSOES. 


her  words  in  her  own  plaintive  language,  but 
alas!  Catharine  felt  it  was  to  her  as  a  sealed 
book. 

She  tried  to  recall  some  Indian  words  of 
familiar  import,  that  she  had  heard  from  the 
Indians  when  they  came  to  her  father's  house, 
but  in  vain;  not  the  simplest  phrase  occurred 
to  her,  and  she  almost  cried  with  vexation  at 
her  own  stupidity ;  neither  was  Hector  or  Louis 
more  fortunate  in  attempts  at  conversing  with 
their  guest. 

At  the  end  of  three  days  the  fever  began  to 
abate,  the  restless  eye  grew  more  steady  in  its 
gaze,  the  dark  fiush  faded  from  the  cheek, 
leaving  it  of  a  grey  ashy  tint,  not  the  hue  of 
health,  such  as  even  the  swarthy  Indian  shows, 
but  wan  and  pallid,  her  eyes  bent  mournfully  on 
the  ground. 

^  She  would  sit  quiet  and  passive  while 
Catharine  bound  up  the  long  tresses  of  her 
hair,  and  smoothed  them  with  her  hands  and 
the  small  wooden  comb  that  Louis  had  cut  for 
her  use.  Sometimes  she  would  raise  her  eyea 
to  her  new  friend's  face,  with  a  quiet  sad  smile, 
and  once  she  took  her  hands  within  her  own' 
and  gently  pressed  them  to  her  breast  and  lips 
and  forehead  in  token  of  gratitude,  but  she 
seldom  gave  utterance  to  any  words,  and  would 
remain  with  her  fivfia  fiTro/l  xronor^-i- 

--     -^  —    >"-     TMvcwiiuijr     vu    sumo 


THE   CANADIAN  CRUSOES. 


181 


object  which  seemed  unseen  or  to  awaken  no 
idea  in  her  mind.  At  such  times  the  face  of 
the  young  squaw  wore  a  dreamy  apathy  of 
expression,  or  rather  it  might  with  more  pro- 
priety have  been  said,  the  absence  of  all  ex- 
pression, almost  as  blank  as  that  of  an  infant 
of  a  few  weeks  old. 

How  intently  did  Catharine  study  that  face, 
and  strive  to  read  what  was  passing  within  her 
mind  I  how  did  the  lively  intelligent  Canadian 
girl,  the  offspring  of  a  more  intellectual  race, 
long  to  instruct  her  Indian  friend,  to  enlarge  her 
mind,  by  pointing  out  such  things  to  her 
attention  as  she  herself  took  interest  in  1  She 
would  then  repeat  the  name  of  the  object  that 
she  showed  her  several  times  over,  and  by 
degrees  the  young  squaw  learned  the  names  of 
all  the  familiar  household  articles  about  the 
shanty,  and  could  repeat  them  in  her  own  soft 
plaintive  tone;  and  when  she  had  learned  a  new 
word,  and  could  pronounce  it  distinctly,  she 
would  laugh,  and  a  gleam  of  innocent  joy  and 
pleasure  would  lighten  up  her  fine  dark  eyes, 
generally  so  fixed  and  sad-looking. 

It  was  Catharine's  delight  to  teach  her  pupil 

to  speak  a  language  familiar  to  her  own  ears ; 

she  would  lead  her  out  among  the  trees,  and 

lame  to  her  all  the  natural  objects  that  pro 

vuipi^  tiiomocxvca  i.u  viovv.    ^na  sne  in  iierturii 

16 


182 


THE  CANADIAN   CRUSOES. 


made  "  Indiana"  (for  so  they  named  the  young 
squaw,  after  a  negress  that  she  had  heard  her 
father  tell  of,  a  nurse  to  one  of  his  colonel's  in- 
fant children)  tell  her  the  Indian  names  for 
each  object  they  saw.  Indiana  soon  began  to 
enjoy  in  her  turn  the  amusement  arising  from 
instructing  Catharine  and  the  boys,  and  often 
seemed  to  enjoy  the  blunders  they  made  in  pro- 
nouncing the  words  she  taught  them.  When 
reallj^  interested  in  any  thing  that  was  going  on, 
her  eyes  would  beam  out,  and  her  smile  give  an 
inexpressible  charm  to  her  face,  for  her  lips  were 
red  and  her  teeth  even  and  brilliantly  white, 
so  purely  white  that  Catharine  thought  she  had 
never  seen  any  so  beautiful  in  her  life  before ; 
at  such  times  her  face  was  joyous  and  innocent 
as  a  little  child's ;  but  there  were  also  hours  of 
gloom,  that  transformed  it  into  an  expression  of 
sullen  apathy;  then  a  dull  glassy  look  c 
possession  of  her  eye,  the  full  lip  drooped  and 
the  form  seemed  rigid  and  stiflf ;  obstinate  deter- 
mination neither  to  move  nor  speak  characterized 
her  in  what  Louis  used  to  call  the  young  squaw's 
"dark  hour."  Then  it  was  that  the  savage 
nature  seemed  predominant,  and  her  gentle 
nurse  almost  feared  to  look  at  her  protegee  or 
approach  her. 

"  Hector,"  said  Louis,  "  you  spoke  about  a  jar 
v*  TTWTOx  uciug  icifc  «&b  Luu  ccuxip^  i;ae  jar  wouid 


THE   CANADIAN  CBUSOES. 


188 


be  a  great  treasure  to  us,  let  us  go  over  for  it " 
Hector  assented  to  the  proposal.  "And  we 
may  possibly  pick  up  a  few  grains  of  Indian 
corn,  to  add  to  what  you  showed  us." 

"If  we  are  here  in  the  spring,"  said  Hector, 
"you  and  I  will  prepare  a  small  patch  of  ground 
and  plant  it  with  this  corn;"  and  he  sat  down 
on  the  end  of  a  log  and  began  carefully  to  count 
the  rows  of  grain  on  the  cob,  and  then  each 
corn  grain  by  grain.  "  Three  hundred  and  ten 
sound  grains.  Now  if  every  one  of  these  pro- 
duces a  strong  plant,  we  shall  have  a  great  in- 
crease, and  besides  seed  for  another  year,  there 
will  be,  if  it  is  a  good  year,  several  bushels  to 
eat." 

"  We  shall  have  a  glorious  summer,  mon  ami, 
no  doubt,  and  a  fine  flourishing  crop,  and  Kate 
is  a  good  hand  at  making  supporne."* 

"  You  forget  we  have  no  porridge  pot."  • 
"  I  was  thinking  of  that  Indian  jar  all  the 
time.  You  will  see  what  fine  cookery  we  will 
make  when  we  get  it,  if  it  will  but  stand  fire. 
Come,  let  us  be  off,  I  am  impatient  till  we  get  it 
home ;"  and  Louis,  who  had  now  a  new  crotchet 
at  work  in  his  vivacious  brain,  was  quite  on 
the  qui  Vive,  and  walked  and  danced  along  at  a 

•  Suppome,  probably  an  Indian  word  for  a  stirabout,  or 
pomdge^made  of  Indian  meal,  a  common  dish  in  every  Cnna^ 
oian  or  laakee  iUrmer'f*  house. 


m, 


J! 


V     i 


184 


THE  CANADIAN   CRUS0E3. 


rate  which  proved  a  great  disturbance  to  his 
graver  companion,  who  tried  to  keep  down  hig 
cousin's  lively  spirits  by  suggesting  the  proba- 
bility  of  the  jar  being  cracked,  or  that  the  In- 
dians might  have  returned  for  it ;  but  Louis  was 
not  one  of  the  doubting  sort,  and  Louis  was 
right  in  not  damping  the  ardour  of  his  mind  by 
causeless  fears.  The  jar  was  there  at  the  de- 
serted camp,  and  though  it  had  been  knocked 
over  by  some  animal,  it  was  sound  and  strong, 
and  excited  great  speculation  in  the  two  cousins 
as  to  the  particular  material  of  which  it  was 
made,  as  it  was  unlike  any  sort  of  pottery  they 
had  ever  before  seen.  It  seemed  to  have  been 
manufactured  from  some  very  dark  red  earth,  or 
clay  mixed  up  with  pounded  granite,  as  it  pre- 
sented the  appearance  of  some  coarse  crystals ; 
it  was  very  hard  and  ponderous,  and  the  surface 
was  marked  over  in  a  rude  sort  of  pattern  as  if 
punctured  and  scratched  with  some  pointed  in- 
strument. It  seemed  to  have  been  hardened  by 
fire,  and,  from  the  smoked  hue  of  one  side,  had 
evidently  done  good  service  as  a  cooking  uten- 
sil. Subsequently  they  learned  the  way  in 
which  it  was  used  :*  the  jar  being  placed  near 

♦  Pieces  of  this  rude  pottery  are  often  found  along  the 
shires  of  the  inland  lakes,  but  I  have  never  d  et  with  any  of 
the  perfect  vessels  in  use  with  the  Indians,  who  probably  find 
it  now  easier  to  supply  themselves  with  iron  pots  and  crockery 
ffom  the  towns  of  iLd  European  settlers. 


THE   CANADIAN  CRUSOES. 


18^ 


bat  not  on  the  fire,  was  surrounded  by  hot 
bers,  and  the  water  made  to  boil  by  stones 


era- 


bein 


g 


made  red  hot  and  plunged  into  it :  in  this  way 
soup  and  other  food  were  prepared,  and  kept 
stewing,  with  no  further  trouble  after  once  tlie 
simmering  began  than  adding  a  few  fresh  em- 
bers at  the  side  furthest  fjjprn  the  fire ;  a  hot 
stone  also  placed  on  the  top,  facilitated  the 
cooking  process. 

Louis,  who  like  all  French  people  was  addict- 
ed t.o  cookery, — indeed,  it  was  an  accomplish- 
ment he  prided  himself  on, — was  enchanted 
with  the  improvement  made  in  the  diet  by  the 
acquisition  of  the  said  earthen  jar  or  pipkin, 
and  gave  Indiana  some  praise  for  initiating  his 
cousin  in  the  use  of  it  Catharine  and  Hector 
declared  that  he  went  out  with  his  bow  and 
arrows,  and  visited  his  dead-falls  and  snares  ten 
times  oftener  than  he  used  to  do,  just  for  the 
sake  of  proving  the  admirable  properties  of  this 
precious  utens^^r  and  finding  out  some  new  way 
of  dressing  his^me. 

At  all  events  tliere  was  a  valuable  increase  of 
furs,  for  making  up  into  clothing,  caps,  leggings, 
mitts,  and  other  articles.  *         -*-  ^ 

From  the  Indian  girl,  Catharine  learned  tl!©^ 

value  of  many  of  the  herba  and  shrubs  that 

grew  in  her  path,  the  bark  and  leaves  of  various 

trees,  and  many  dyei  ske  <JQUl4  extract^   frith. 

_     16» 


^6 


THE   CANADIAN   CRU30ES. 


which  she  stained  the  quills  of  the  porcupine 
and  the  strips  of  the  wood  of  which  she  made 
baskets  and  mats.  The  little  creeping  winter- 
green,*  with  its  scarlet  berries,  that  grows  on 
the  dry  flats  or  sandy  hills,  which  the  Canadians 
call  spice-berry,  she  showed  them  was  good  to 
eat,  and  she  would  crush  the  leaves,  draw  forth 
their  fine  aromatic  flavour  in  her  hands,  and  then 
inhale  their  fragrance  with  delight.  She  made 
an  infusion  of  the  leaves,  and  drank  it  as  a 
tonic.  The  inner  bark  of  the  wild  black  cherry 
she  said  was  good  to  cure  ague  and  feve/.  The 
root  of  the  dulgamara,  or  bitter-sweet,  she  scraped 
down  and  boiled  in  the  deer-fat,  or  the  fat  of 
auy  other  animal,  and  made  an  ointment  that 
possessed  very  healing  qualities,  especially  as 
an  immediate  application  to  fresh  burns. 

Sometimes  she  showed  a  disposition  to  mys- 
tery, and  would  conceal  the  knowledge  of  the 
particular  herbs  she  made  use  of;  and  Catherine 
uoveral  times  noticed  that  she  would  go  out  and 
sprinkle  a  portion  of  the  food  she  had  assisted 
her  in  preparing,  on  the  earth,  or  under  some 
of  the  trees  or  bushes.  When  she  was  more 
familiar  with  their  language,  she  told  Catharine 
this  was  done  in  token  of  gratitude  to  the  Good 
Spirit,  who  had  given  them  success  in  hunting 
or  trapping ;  or  else  it  was  to  appease  the  malice 

*  GhuiU&tHaj»wumb«u,-^]^i(s&  Winter-green. 


a.. 


THE   CANADIAN   CRUS0E8. 


I8y 


of  the  Evil  Spirit,  who  might  bring  mischief  or 
loss  to  them,  or  sickness  or  death,  unless  his  for- 
bearance was  purchased  by  some  particular  mark 
of  attention.* 

Attention,  memory,  and  imitation  appeared 
to  form  the  three  most  remarkable  of  the  men- 
tal faculties  developed  by  the  Indian  girl.  She 
examined  (when  once  her  attei\Jion  was  roused) 
any  object  with  critical  minuteness.  Any  knowl- 
edge she  had  once  acquired  she  retained ;  her 
memory  was  great,  she  never  missed  a  path  she 
had  once  trodden ;  she  seemed  even  to  single 
out  particular  birds  in  a  flock,  to  know  them 
from  their  congeners.  Her  powers  of  imitation 
were  also  great ;  she  brought  patience  and  perse- 
verance to  assist  her,  and  t?t)9n  once  thoroughly 
interested  in  any  work  #i'  began,  she  would 
toil  on  untiringly  till  it  ^^mpleted ;  and  then 
what  triumph  shone  in"  Ji&yes  I  At  such  times 
they  became  darkly  brillSht  with  the  joy  that 
filled  her  heart.    But  she  j)ossessed  little  talent 


*  By  the  testimony  of  many  of  the  ludians  themselves,  they 
appear  to  entertain  a  certain  Polytheism  in  their  belief.  "  We 
believed  in  one  great,  wise,  Jjcnevolent  being,  Thesha-mon-e- 
uoo,  whose  dwelling  wob  in  the  sun.  We  believed  also  in  many 
other  lesser  spirits— gods  of  the  elements,  and  in  one  bad,  unap- 
peasable spirit,  Mah-je-mah-ne-doo,  to  whom  we  attributed  bad 
luck,  evil  accidents,  and  sickness  and  death.  This  bad  spirit  has 
to  be  conoUiated  with  meat  and  drink  offerings."— Zt/«  0/  Oeorgt 
thpway. 


^188 


THE   CANADIAN   CRUS0E8. 


for  invention ;  what  had  she  seen  done,  after  a 
few  imp^^t  attempts,  she  could  do  again,  but 
she  rarely  struck  out  any  new  path  for  herself. 

At  times  sne  was  docile  and  even  playful,  and 
appeared  grateful  for  the  kindness  with  which 
she  was  treated ;  each  day  seemed  to  increase 
her  fondnAjL  for  Catharine,  and  she  appeared  to 
delight  in  d8ii|^any  little  service  to  please  and 
gratify  her,  but  it  was  towards  Hector  that  she 
displayed  the  deepest  feeling  of  affection  and 
respect.  Tt  was  to  him  her  first  tribute  of  fruit 
or  flowers,  furs,  mocassins,  or  oTnamental  plu- 
mage of  rare  birds  was  offered.  She  seemed  to 
turn  to  him  as  to  a  master  and  protector.  He 
was  in  her  eyes  the  "Chief,"  the  head  of  his 
tribe.  His  bow  was  strung  by  her,  and  stained 
with  quaint  figures  and  devices;  his  arrows 
were  carved  by  her ;  the  sheath  of  deer-skin 
was  made  and  ornamented  by  her  hands,  that 
he  carried  his  knife  in ;  and  the  case  for  his 
arrows,  of  birch-bark^was  wrought  with  especial 
neatness,  and  suspenlbd  by  thongs  to  his  neck, 
when  he  was  preparia*g  to  go  out  in  search  of 
game.  She  gave  him  the  name  of  the  "Young 
Eagle."  While  she  c«llred  Louis,  "Nee-chee," 
or  friend  ;  to  Catharine  she  gave  the  poetical 
name  of  "Music  of  the  Winds," — Ma-wah-osh. 

When  they  asked  her  to  tell  them  her  own 
name,  sue  would  uend  down  u&i  head  in  sorrow 


i 


THE   CANADIAN   CRUSOES. 


189 


n  sorrow 


and  refuse  to  pronounce  it.  She  soon  answered 
to  the  name  of  Indiana,  and  seemed  pleased 
with  the  sound. 

But  of  all  the  household,  next  to  Hector,  old 
Wolfe  was  the  greatest  favourite.  At  first,  it  is 
true,  the  old  dog  regarded  the  new  inmate  with 
a  jealous  eye,  and  seemed  uneasy  when  he  saw 
her  approach  to  caress  him,  bjjt  Indiana  soon 
reconciled  him  to  her  person,  and  mutual 
friendly  feeling  became  established  between 
them,  which  seemed  daily  and  hourly  to  in- 
crease, greatly  to  the  delight  of  the  young 
stranger.  She  would  seat  herself  Eastern  fash- 
ion, cross-legged  on  the  floor  of  the  shanty,  with 
the  capacious  head  of  the  old  dog  in  her  lap, 
and  address  herself  to  this  mute  companion  in 
wailing  tones,  as  if  she  would  unburden  her 
heart  by  pouring  into  his  unconscious  ear  her 
tale  of  desolation  and  woe. 

Catharine  was  always  very  particular  and 
punctual  in  performing  her  personal  ablutions, 
and  she  intimated  to  Inljana  that  it  was  good 
for  her  to  do  the  san  .  /  but  the  young  girl 
seemed  reluctant  to  follow  her  example,  till 
daily  custom  had  recoraailed  h^r  to  what  she  ev- 
idently at  first  regarded  as  an  unnecessary  cere- 
mony ;  but  she  soon  took  pleasure  in  dressing 
her  dark  hair,  and  suffering  Catharine  to  braid 
it,  and  poliBu  it  till  it,  looked  glossy  and  soil. 


190 


THE  CANADIAN  CRUSOES. 


Indiana  in  her  turn  would  adorn  Catharine  with 
the  wings  of  the  blue-bird  or  red-bird,  the  crest 
of   the    wood-duck,   or    quill  feathers  of  the 
golden-winged  flicker,  which   is  called  in  the 
Indian  tongue  the  shot-bird,  in  allusion  to  the 
round  spots  on  its  cream-coloured  breast.*    But 
it  was  not  in  these  things  alone  she  showed  her 
grateful  sense  of  the  sisterly  kindness  that  her 
young  hostess  showed  to  her;  she  soon  learned 
to  lighten  her  labours  in  every  household  work, 
and  above  all,  she  spent  her  time  most  usefully 
in  manufacturing  clothing  from  the  skins  of  the 
wild  animals,  and  in  teaching  Catharine  how  to 
fit  and  prepare  them.    But  these  were  the  occu- 
pation of  the  winter  months.    I  must  not  fore- 
stall my  narrative. 

♦  The  Golden-wiuged  Flicker  belongs  to  a  sub-genus  of 
woodpeckers ;  it  is  very  handsome,  and  is  aeid  to  be  eatable ;  U 
Uvea  on  fruits  and  insects. 


• 


THE  CANADIAN  CRrsOES, 


w. 


CHAPTER   VII. 

"  Go  to  the  ant."~Pr(»erb». 

FT  waa  now  the  middle  of  September.    Th« 
•^.weather,  which  had  continued  serene   and 
beautiful  for  some  time,  with  dewy  nights  and 
misty  mornings,  began  to  show  symptoms  of 
the  change  of  season  ,    ual  at  the  approach  of 
the  equinox.     SuddeL   squalls  of  wind,  with 
hasty  showers,  would  come  sweeping  over  the 
lake;  the  nights  and  mornings  were  damp  and 
chilly.     Already  the  tints  of  autumn  were  be- 
ginning  to  crimson  the  foliage  of  the  oaks,  and 
where  the  islands  were  vi.'ble,  the  splendid  col- 

trast  with  the  deep  verdure  of  the  evergreen, 
and  xignt  r  den-yellow  of  the  poplar;  but 
lovely  as  tney  now  looked,  they  had  not  yet 
reached  the  meridian  of  their  beauty,  which  a 

destined   o  bring  to  perfection-a  glow  of  splen- 

dour  to  gladden  the  eye  for  a  brief  space,  before 

the  rushing  winds  and  rains  of  the  following 

month  were  to  sweep  them  away,  and  scatter 

them  abroad  upon  the  earth. 

One  morniricr  ino*  «a. •  »  .     -, 

'— oi  j«ae  «wwir  a  CigQE  01  heavy  rain 


« 


..»a».«*Ui.».«ii.-.i.^ 


'^ii 


# 


: 

: 

t 

]92 


THE   CANADIAN   CRUSOES. 


and  wind,  the  two  boys  went  down  to  see  if  the 
lake  was  calm  enough  for  trying  the  raft,  which 
Louis  had  finished  before  the  coming  on  of  the 
bad  weather.     The  water  was  rough  and  crested 
with  mimic  waves,  and  they  felt  not  disposed 
to  launch  the  raft  on  so  stormy  a  surface,  but 
they   stood    looking    out   over   the   lake    and 
admiring  the   changing  foliage,  when   Hector 
pointed  out  to  his  cousin  a  dark  speck  dancing 
on  the  waters,  between  the  two  nearest  islands. 
The  wind,  which  blew  very  strong  still  from 
the  north-east,  brought  the  object  nearer  every 
minute.     At  first  they  thought  it  might  be  a 
pine-branch  that  was  floating  on  the  surface, 
when  as  it  came  bounding  over  the  waves,  they 
perceived  that  it  was  a  birch-canoe,  but  impelled 
by  no  visible  arm.    It  was  a  strange  sight  upon 
that  lonely  lake  to  see  a  vessel  of  any  kind 
afloat,  and,  on  first  deciding  that  it  was  a  canoe, 
the  boys  were  inclined  to  hide  themselves  among 
the  bushes,  for  fear  of  the  Indians,  but  curiosity 
got  the  better  of  their  fears. 

"  The  owner  of  yonder  little  craft  is  either 
asleep  or  absent  from  her;  for  I  see  no  paddle, 
and  it  is  evidently  drifting  without  any  one  to 
guide  it,"  said  Hector,  after  intently  watching 
the  progress  of  the  tempest-driven  vessel.  As- 
sured as  it  approached  nearer  that  such  was  the 
case,  they  hurried  to  the  beach  just  as  a  fresh 


0  see  if  the 
raft,  which 
f  on  of  the 
and  crested 
3t  disposed 
surface,  but 

lake  and 
ten  Hector 
3k  dancing 
rest  islands. 
r  still  from 
earer  every 
might  be  a 
;he  surface, 
evaves,  they 
lut  impelled 

1  sight  upon 
f  any  kind 
vas  a  canoe, 
3lves  among 
ut  curiosity 

ift  is  either 
i  no  paddle, 
any  one  to 
,ly  watching 
vessel.  As- 
luch  was  the 
it  as  a  fresh 


THE   CAXADIAN  CRUSOES. 


193 


gust  had  lodged  the  canoe  among  the  branches 
of  a  fallen  cedar  which  projected  out  some  way 
int-5  the  water. 

By  creeping  along  the  trunk  of  the  tree,  and 
trusting  at  times  to  the  projecting  boughs,  Louis, 
who  wa£,  the  most  active  and  the  lightest  of 
weight,  succeeded  in  getting  within  reach  of  the 
«anoe,  and  with  some  trouble  and  the  help  of  a 
*tout   branch  that  Hector  harmed  to  him,  he 
contrived  to  moor  her  in  sale./  on  the  shore, 
taking  the  precaution  of  hauling  her  well  up  on 
the  shingle,  lest  the  wind  and  water  should  set 
her  afloat  again.     "Hec,  there  is  something  in 
this  canoe  the  sight  of  which  will  gladden  your 
heart,"  cried  Louis,  with  a  joyful  look.     "  Come 
quickly,  and  see  my  treasures." 

"  Treasures  1  You  may  well  call  them  trea- 
sures,"  exclaimed  Hector,  as  he  helped  Louis  to 
examine  the  contents  of  the  canoe  and  place 
them  on  the  shore,  side  by  side. 

Tne  boys  could  hardly  find  words  to  express 
their  joy  and  surprise  at  the  discovery  of  a  large 
jar  of  parched  rice,  a  tomahawk,  an  Indian 
blanket  almost  as  good  as  new,  a  large  mat 
rolled  up  with  a  bass  bark  rope  several  yards 
in  length  wound  round  it,  and,  what  was  more 
precious  than  all,  an  iron  three-legged  pot  in 
which  was  a  quantitv  of  InrHan  r^nm      tu^^^ 

articles  had  evidently  constituted  the  stores  of 
17 


mmrnvr 


(ill 


Vi  i 


in  > 


[|:i 


IP 


194 


THE   CANADIAN   CRUSOES. 


some  Indian  hunter  or  trapper;  possibly  tb«i 
canoe  had  been  imperfectly  secured  and  had 
drifted  from  its  moorings  during  the  gale  of  the 
previous  night,  unless  by  some  accident  the 
owner  had  fallen  into  the  lake  and  been  drowned. 
This  was  of  course  only  a  matter  of  conjecture 
on  which  it  was  useless  to  speculate ;  and  the 
boys  joyfully  took  possession  of  the  good  for- 
tune that  had  so  providentially  been  wafted,  as 
it  were,  to  their  very  feet. 

"It  was  a  capital  chance  for  us,  that  old 
cedar  having  been  blown  down  last  night  just 
where  it  was,"  said  Louis;  "for  if  the  canoe 
had  not  been  drawn  into  the  eddy,  and  stopped 
by  the  branches,  we  might  have  lost  it.  I  trem- 
bled when  I  saw  the  wind  driving  it  on  so  rap- 
idly that  it  would  founder  in  the  deep  water, 
or  go  off  to  Long  Island." 

"  I  think  we  should  have  got  it  at  Pine-tree 
Point,"  said  Hector,  "but  I  am  glad  it  was 
lodged  so  cleverly  among  the  cedar  boughs.  I 
was  half  afraid  you  would  have  fallen  in  once 
or  twice,  when  you  were  trying  to  draw  it  nearer 

to  the  shore." 

» Never  fear  for  me,  my  friend ;  I  can  cling 
like  a  wild  cat  when  I  climb.  But  what  a 
grand  pot  I  What  delightful  soups,  and  st-ews, 
^^A  v>,>;ia  nqtV>arir>P.  will  make !  Hurrah  1"  and 
Louis  tossed  up  his  new  fur  cap,  that  he  had 


THE   CANADIAN   CRUSOES. 


196 


ssibly  tb« 
.  and  had 
jale  of  the 
lident  the 
I  drowned, 
conjecture 
;  and  the 
3  good  for- 
wafted,  as 

,  that  old 
night  just 
the  canoe 
nd  stopped 
it.  I  trem- 
on  so  rap- 
ieep  water, 

it  Pine-tree 
ylad  it  was 
boughs.  I 
en  in  once 
aw  it  nearer 

I  can  cling 
»ut  what  a 
,  and  st^ws, 
urrah  1"  and 
ihat  he  had 


made  with  great  skill  from  an  entire  fox-skin 
in  the  air,  and  cut  sundry  fantastic  capers  which 
Hector  gravely  condemned  as  unbecoming  his 
mature  age ;  (Louis  was  turned  of  fifteen ;)  but 
with  the  joyous  spirit  of  a  little  child  he 
sung,  and  danced,  and  laughed  and  shouted,  till 
the  lonely  echoes  of  the  islands  and  far-off  hills 
returned  the  unusual  sound,  and  even  his  more 
steady  cousin  caught  the  infection,  and  laughed 
to  see  Louis  so  elated. 

Leaving  Hector  to  guard  the  prize,  Louis  ran 
gayly  off  to  fetch  Catharine  to  share  his  joy,  and 
come  and  admire  the  canoe,  and  the  blanket,  and 
the  tripod,  and  the  corn,  and  the  comahawk. 
Indiana  accompanied  them  to  the   lake  shore, 
and  long  and  carefully  she  examined  the  canoe 
and  its  contents,  and  many  were  the  plaintive 
exclamations  she  uttered,  as  she  surveyed  the 
things  piece  by  piece,  till  she  took  notice  of  the 
broken  handle  of  an  Indian  paddle  which  lay 
at  the  bottom  of  the  vessel.     This  seemed  to 
afford  some  solution  to  her  of  the  mystery,  and 
by  broken  words  and  signs  she  intimated  that 
the  paddle  had  possibly  broken  in  the  hand  of 
the  Indian,  and  that  in  endeavouring  to  regain 
the  other  part,  he  had  lost  his  balance  and  been 
drowned.     She  showed  Hector  a  rude  figure  of 

ft  bird  encrrnvorJ  witVi  e>^>v./^  _i •__  . 

^ „..,u  aomc  csuiii-p  iuscrument, 

and  rubbed  in  with  a  blue  colour.    This,  she 


196 


THE   CANADIAN    CrlUSOES. 


said,  was  the  totem  or  crest  of  the  chief  of  the 
tribe,  and  was  meant  to  represent  a  crow.     The 
canoe  had  belonged  to  a  chief  of  that  name. 
While  they  were  dividing  the  contents  of  the 
canoe  among  them  to  be  carried  to  the  shanty, 
Indiana,  taking  up  the  bass-rope  and  the  blanket, 
bundled  up  the  most  of  the  things,  and  adjust- 
ing the  broad,  thick  part  of  the  rope  to  the  front 
of  her  head,  she  bore  off  the  burden  with  great 
apparent  ease,  as  a  London  or  Edinburgh  porter 
would  his  trunks  and  packag(?s,  turning  round 
with  a  merry  glance  and  repeating  some  Indian 
•words  with  a  lively  air,  as  she  climbed  with  ap- 
parent ease  the  s^eep  bank,  and  soon  distanced 
her  companions,  tb  her  great  enjoyment.    That 
night  Indiana  cooked  some  of  the  parched  rice, 
Indian  fushion,  with  venison,  and  they  enjoyed 
the  novelty  very  much — it  made  an  excellent 
substitute  for  bread,  of  whifeh  they  had  been  so 
long  deprived. 

Indiana  gave  them  to  understand  that  the 
rice  harvest  would  soon  be  ready  on  the  lake, 
and  that  now  they  had  got  a  canoe,  they  would 
go  out  and  gather  it,  and  so  lay  by  a  store  lo 
last  them  for  many  months. 

This  little  incident  furnished  the  inhabitants 
of  the  shanty  with  frequent  themes  for  discus- 
sion. Hector  declared  that  the  Indian  corn  was 
the  most  valuable  of  their  acquisitions.     "It 


shief  of  the 
crow.     The 
that  name, 
tents  of  the 
the  shanty, 
the  blanket, 
and  adjust- 
3  to  the  front 
n  with  great 
burgh  porter 
rning  round 
some  Indian 
bed  with  ap* 
)n  distanced 
ment.     That 
jarched  rice, 
;hey  enjoyed 
an  excellent 
had  been  so 

ad  that  the 
on  the  lake, 
I,  they  would 
)y  a  store  to 

e  inhabitants 
es  for  discus- 
lian  corn  was 
sitions.     "  It 


.1 

V- 


I 


THE   CANADIAN  CRUS0E3. 


197 


^  J  ensure  us  a  crop,  and  bread  and  seed- 
corn  for  many  years,"  he  said ;  he  also  highly 
valued  the  tomahawk,  as  his  axe  was  worn  and 
blunt.  ^ 

•Louis  was  divided  between  the  iron  pot  and 
the  canoe.     Hector  seemed  to  think  the  raft, 
after  all,  might  have  formed  a  substitute  for 
the  latter;  besides,  Indiana  had  signified  hei 
intention  of   helping   him   to   make  a  canoe. 
Catharine  declared  in  favour  of  the  blanket,  as 
it  would  make,  after  thorough  ablutions,  warm 
petticoats  with  tight  boddices  for  herself  and  In- 
diana.     With   deer-skin   leggings,   and   a  fur 
jacket,  they  should  be  comfortably  clad.     In- 
diana thought  the  canoe  the  most  precious,  and 
was  charmed  with  the  good  jar  and  the  store 
of  rice :  nor  did  she  despise  the  packing  rope, 
which  she  soon  showed  was  of  use  in  carrying 
burdens  from  place  to  place,  Indian  fashion  ; 
by  placing  a  pad  of  soft  fur  in  fron^  of  the  head, 
she  could  carry  heavy  loads  with  great  ease. 
The  mat,  she  said,  was  useful  for  drying  the 
rice  she  meant  to  store. 

The  very  next  day  after  this  adventure,  the 
two  girls  set  to  work,  and  with  the  help  of 
Louisas  large  knife,  which  was  called  into  re- 
quisition as  a  substitute  for  scissors,  they  cut 
uut^the  blanket  dresses,  and  in  a  short  time 
made  two  comfortable  and  not  very  unsightly 


s 


^0^' 


f 


I  ii!l 


198 


THE   CANADIAN   CRU30ES. 


garments :  the  full,  short,  plaited  skirts  reached 
tt  little  below  the  knee ;  light  vests  bordered 
with  fur  completed  the  upper  part,  and  leggings, 
terminated  at  the  ankles  by  knotted  fringes  of 
the  doe-skin,  with  mocassins  turned  over  with 
a  band  of  squirrel  fur,  completed  the  novel  but 
not  very  unbecoming  costume ;  and  many  a 
glance  of  innocent  satisfaction  did  our  young 
damsels  cast  upon  each  other  when  they  walked 
forth  in  the  pride  of  girlish  vanity  to  display 
their  dresses  to  Hector  and  Louis,  who,  for 
their  parts,  regarded  them  as  most  skilful  dress- 
makers, and  were  never  tired  of  admiring  and 
commending  their  ingenuity  in  the  cutting, 
making,  and  fitting,  considering  what  rude  im- 
plements they  were  obliged  to  use  in  the  cutting 
out  and  sewing  of  the  garments. 

The  extensive  rice-beds  on  the  lake  had  now 
begun  to  assume  a  golden  tinge  which  con- 
trasted very  delightfully  with  the  deep  blue 
waters — looking,  when  lighted  up  by  the  sun- 
beams, like  islands  of  golden-coloured  sand. 
The  ears,  heavy  laden  with  the  ripe  grain, 
drooped  towards  the  water.  The  time  of  the 
rice-harvest  was  at  hand,  ajid  with  light  and 
joyous  hearts  our  young  adventurers  launched 
the  canoe,  and,  guided  in  thpir  movements  by 
the  little  squaw,  paddled  to  the  extensive 
aquatic  fields  to  gatb'i*'  '^*  »o^  \&t^v\jn^  Oathariuo 


't4' 


THE   OANADIAX   CHL'riOES. 


199 


rts  reached 
s  bordered 
d  leggings, 
fringes  of 
over  with 
!  novel  but 
d  many  a 
our  young 
ley  walked 
to  display 
1,  who,  for 
ilful  dress- 
niring  and 
le  cutting, 
,t  rude  im- 
the  cutting 

:e  had  now 
vhich  con- 
deep  blue 
y  the  sun- 
ired   sand, 
'ipe  grain, 
ime  of  the 
light  and 
s  launched 
ements  by 
extensive 
Qatharmo 

I 
*■% 

It 


and  Wolfe  to  watch  their  proceedings  fi-om  the 
raft,  which  Louis  had  fastened  to  a  young  tree 
that  projected  out  over  the  lake,  and  which 
made  a  good  landing-place,  likewise  a  wharf 
where  they  could  stand  and  fish  very  comfort- 
ably. As  the  canoe  could  not  be  overloaded 
on  account  of  the  rice-gathering,  Catharine  very 
readily  consented  to  employ  herself  with  fishing 
from  the  raft  till  their  return. 

The  manner  of  procuring  the  rice  was  very 
simple.  One  person  steered  the  canoe  with  the 
aid  of  the  paddle  along  the  edge  of  the  rice  beds, 
and  another  with  a  stick  in  one  hand,  and  a 
curved,  sharp-edged  paddle  in  the  other,  struck 
the  heads  off  as  they  bent  them  over  the  edge 
of  the  stick ;  the  chief  art  was  in  letting  the 
heads  fall  into  the  canoe,  which  a  little  practice 
soon  enabled  them  to  do  as  expertly  as  the 
mower  lets  the  grass  fall  in  ridges  beneath  his 
scythe. 

Many  bushels  of  wild  rice  were  thus  collected. 
Nothing  could  be  more  delightful  than  this  sort 
of  work  to  our  young  people,  and  merrily  they 
worked,  and  laughed,  and  sung,  as  they  came 
home  each  day  with  their  light  bark  laden  with 
a  store  of  grain  that  they  knew  would  preserve 
them  from  starving  through  the  long,  dreary 
winter  that  was  coming  on. 

i.Jv  x/ciUv/€  rraa  a  ouUxuc  VI  ^rtiiii  coinTorc  ana 


w:w 


.  >yT.~" 


i' 


li 


200 


THE   CANADIAN   CRUSOES. 


pleasure  to  them ;  they  were  now  able  to  paddle 
out  into  the  deep  water,  and  fish  for  masquinonj^ 
and  black  bass,  which  they  caught  in  great  num- 
bers. 

Indiana  seemed  quite  another  creature,  when 
armed  with  a  paddle  of  her  own  carving,  she 
knelt  at  the  head  of  the  canoe  and  sent  it  flying 
over  the  water;  then  her  dark  eyes,  often  so 
vacant  and  glassy,  sparkled  with  delight,  and 
her  teeth  gleamed  with  ivory  whiteness  as  her 
face  broke  into  smiles  and  dimples. 

It  was  delightful  then  to  watch  this  child  of 
nature,  and  see  how  innocently  happy  she  could 
be  when  rejoicing  in  the  excitement  of  healthy 
exercise,  and  elated  by  a  consciousness  of  the 
power  she  possessed  of  excelling  her  companions 
in  feats  of  strength  and  skill  which  they  had  yet 
to  acquire  by  imitating  her. 

Even  Louis  was  obliged  to  confess  that  the 
young  savage  knew  more  of  the  management  of 
a  canoe,  and  the  use  of  the  bows  and  arrows, 
and  the  fishing-line,  than  either  himself  or  his 
cousin.  Hector  was  lost  in  admiration  of  her 
skill  in  all  these  things,  and  Indiana  rose  highly 
in  his  estimation  the  more  he  saw  of  her  use- 
fulness. 

"  Every  one  to  his  craft,"  said  Louis,  laughing ; 
"  the  little  squaw  has  been  brought  up  in  the 


THE  CANADIAN   CRUSOES. 


201 


to  paddld 
tsquinonj^ 
reat  num- 

ure,  when 
•ving,  she 
t  it  %ing 
I,  often  so 
Hght,  and 
!S3  as  her 

3  child  of 
she  could 
f  healthy 
;ss  of  the 
mpaniona 
)y  had  yet 

that  the 
jement  of 
i  arrows, 
3lf  or  his 
)n  of  her 
)se  highly 

her  1150- 

aughing ; 
ip  in  the 

T  ii  urixx    L±\JX 


babyhood ;  perhaps  if  we  were  to  set  her  to 
knitting,  and  spinning,  and  milking  of  cows, 
and  house-work,  and  learning  to  read,  I  doubt  if 
she  would  prove  half  as  quick  as  Catharine  or 
Mathilde." 

"  I  wonder  if  she  knows  any  thing  of  God  or 
our  Saviour,"  said  Hector,  thoughtfully. 

"  Who  should  have  taught  her  ?  for  the  In- 
dians are  all  heathens,"  replied  Louis. 

"  I  have  heard  my  dear  mother  say,  the  mis- 
sionaries have  taken  great  pains  to  teach  the  In- 
dian  children  down  about  Quebec  and  Montreal, 
and  that  so  far  from  being  stupid,  they  learn 
very  readily,"  said  Catharine. 

"  We  must  try  and  make  Indiana  learn  to  say 
her  prayers  ;  she  sits  quite  still,  and  seems  to  take 
no  notice  of  what  we  are  doing  when  we  kneel 
down,  before  we  go  to  bed,"  observed  Hector. 

"  She  cannot  understand  what  we  say,"  said 
Catharine ;  "  for  she  knows  so  little  of  our  lan- 
guage yet,  that  of  course  she  cannot  com- 
prehend the  prayers,  which  are  in  other  sort 
of  words  than  what  we  use  in  speaking  of 
hunting  and  fishing,  and  cooking,  and  such 
matters."     . 

"  Well,  when  she  knows  more  of  our  way  of 
speaking,  then  we  must  teach  her ;  it  is  a  sad 
thing  for  Christian  children  to  live  with  an  un- 
tauifht  p-gan,"  said  Louis,  who,  being  rather 


%. 


•'^P'*: 


v: 


202 


THE   CANADIAN   CRUSOES. 


[I        t' 


I 


bigoted  in  his  creed,  felt  a  sort  of  uneasiness  in 
his  own  mind  at  the  poor  girls  total  want  of  the 
rites  of  his  church ;  but  Hector  and  Catharine 
regarded  her  ignorance  with  feelings  of  compas- 
sionate interest,  and  lost  no  opportunity  that 
offered  of  trying  to  enlighten  her  darkened  mind 
on  the  subject  of  belief  in  the  God  who  made, 
and  the  Lord  who  saved  them.  Simply  and 
earnestly  they  entered  into  the  task  as  a  labour 
of  love,  and  though  for  a  long  time  Indiana 
seemed  to  pay  little  attention  to  what  they  said, 
by  slow  degrees  the  good  seed  took  root  and 
brought  forth  fruit  worthy  of  Him  whose  Spirit 
poured  the  beams  of  spiritual  light  into  her 
heart:  but  my  young  readers  must  not  ima- 
gine these  things  were  the  work  of  a  day — the 
process  was  slow,  and  so  were  the  results,  but 
they  were  good  in  the  end. 

And  Catharine  was  glad  when,  after  many 
months  of  patient  teaching,  the  Indian  girl  asked 
permission  to  kneel  down  .,  ith  her  white  friend, 
and  pray  to  the  Great  Spirit  and  His  Son 
in  the  same  words  that  Christ  Jesus  gave  to  his 
disciples;  and  if  the  full  meaning  of  that  holy 
prayer,  so  full  of  humility  and  love,  and  moral 
justice,  was  not  fully  understood  by  her  whose 
lips  repeated  it,  yet  even  the  act  of  worship  and 
the  desire  to  do  that  which  she  had  been  told 
was  fight,  w^as,  doubtless,  a  sacrifice  better  than 


#t 


THE   CANADIAN   CKUSOEd. 


203 


?asmess  m 
vant  of  the 

Catharine 
Df  compas- 
unity  that 
ened  mind 
vhc  made, 
mply  and 
s  a  labour 
e  Indiana 
they  said, 

root  and 
lose  Spirit 
;  into  her 

not  ima- 

day — the 
3sults,  but 

fter  many 
girl  asked 
ite  friend, 
His  Son 
ave  to  his 
that  holy 
md  moral 
ber  whose 
rship  and 
been  told 


the  pagan  rites  which  that  young  girl  had  wit- 
nessed among  her  father's  people,  who,  blindly 
following  the  natural  impulse  of  man  in  hia 
depraved  nature,  regarded  deeds  of  blood  and 
cruelty  as  among  the  highest  of  human  virtues, 
and  gloried  in  those  deeds  of  vengeance  at  which 
the  Christian  mind  revolts  with  horror. 

Indiana  took  upon  herself  <-he  management  of 
the  rice,  drying,  husking,  and  storing  it,  the  tW'  / 
lads  working  under  her  direction.  Sho  caused 
several  forked  stakes  to  be  cut  and  sharpened 
and  driven  into  the  ground ;  on  these  were  laid 
four  poles,  so  as  to  form  a  frame,  over  which  she 
then  stretched  the  bass-mat,  which  she  secured 
by  means  of  forked  pegs  to  the  frame  on  the 
mat ;  she  then  spread  out  the  rice  thinly,  and 
lighted  a  fire  beneath,  taking  good  care  not  to 
let  the  flame  set  fire  to  the  mat,  the  object 
being  rather  to  keep  up  a  strong  slow -heat,  by 
means  of  the  red  embers.  She  next  directed 
the  boys  to  supply  her  with  pine  or  cedar 
boughs,  which  she  stuck  in  close  together,  so 
as  to  enclose  the  fire  within  the  area  of  the 
stakes.  This  was  done  to  concentrate  the  heat 
and  cause  it  to  bear  upwards  with  more  power ; 
the  rice  being  frequently  stirred  with  a  sort  of 
long-handled  flat  shovel.  After  the  rice  was 
sufficiently  dried,  the  next  thing  to  be  done  was 

husk,  and  this  was  effected 


from 


« 


204 


THE   CANADIAN    (JRUSOES. 


11! 


T 


i% 


by  putting  it  by  f^mnW  quantities  into  the  iron 
pot,  and  with  a  son  f  wooden  pestle  or  beetle, 
rubbing  it  round  and  round  against  the  sides.* 
If  they  had  not  had  the  iron  pot,  a  wooden  trough 
must  have  been  substituted  in  its  stead. 

When  the  rice  was  husked,  the  loose  chaff  was 
winnowed  from  it  in  a  flat  basket  like  a  sieve, 
and  it  was  then  put  by  in  coarse  birch  baskets, 
roughly  sewed  with  leather-wood  bark,  or  bags 
made  of  matting,  woven  by  the  little  squaw 
from  the  cedar-bark.  A  portion  was  also  parched, 
which  was  simply  done  by  putting  the  rice  dry 
into  the  iron  pot,  and  setting  it  on  hot  embers, 
stirring  the  grain  till  it  burst:  it  was  then 
stored  by  for  use.  Kice  thus  prepared  is  eaten 
dry,  as  a  substitute  i'oi  bread,  by  the  Indians. 

The  lake  was  now  swarming  with  wild  fowl 
of  various  kinds ;  crowds  of  ducks  were  wing- 
ing their  way  across  it  from  morning  till  night, 
floating  in  vast  flocks  upon  its  surface,  or  rising 
in  noisy  groups  if  an  eagle  or  fishhawk  appeared 
sailing  with  slow,  majestic  circles  above  them, 
then  settling  down  with  noisy  splash  upon  the 
calm  water.  The  shores,  too,  were  ".  vfred 
with  these  birds,  feeoing  on  the  fallen  aconm 
which  fell  ripe  and  brown  with  evei^  i  loamg 


*  The  Indians  often  make  use  of  a  VMy  rude,  primitire  sort 
of  mortar,  by  hollowing;  out  a  bass-wood  stamp,  and  rubbing 
tin*  rice  with  a  wooden  ooonder. 


THK  CANADIAN    OBUSOES. 


206 


breeze ;  the  berries  of  the  dogwo  -d  also  furnish- 
ed them  with  food ;  but  the  wild  rice  seemed 
the  great  attraction,  and  small  shell-fish,  and  tlio 
larvae  of  many  insects  that  had  been  dropped 
into  the  waters,  there  to  come  to  perfection  in 
due  season,  or  to  form  a  provision  for  myriads  of 
wild  fowl  that  had  come  from  the  far  north-west 
to  feed  upon  them,  guided  by  that  instinct  which 
has  so  beautifully  been  termed  by  one  of  our 
modern  poetesses, 

"  God's  gift  to  thft  weak."  » 


*  Mn.  Southey. 


M 


^If" 


206 


THE  CANADIAN  CRUSOES. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

Oh,  corae  mid  hear  what  cruel  wrongs 
Befell  the  Dark  Ladye." — Coleridge. 

npHE  Mohawk  girl  was  in  high  spirits  at  the 
-■-  coming  of  the  wild  fowl  to  the  lake ;  she 
would  clap  her  hands  and  laugh  with  almost 
childish  glee  as  she  looked  at  them  darkening 
the  lake  like  clouds  resting  on  its  surface. 

"  If  I  had  but  my  father's  gun,  his  good  old 
gun,  now !"  would  Hector  say,  as  he  eyed  the 
timorous  flocks  as  they  rose  and  fell  upon  the 
lake  ;  "  but  these  foolish  birds  are  so  shy,  that 
they  are  away  before  an  arrow  can  reach  them." 
Indiana  smiled  in  her  quiet  way;  she  was 
busy;^lling  the  canoe  with  green  boughs,  which 
she  arranged  so  as  completely  to  transform  the 
little  vessel  into  the  semblance  of  a  floating 
island  of  evergreen ;  within  this  bower  she  mo- 
tioned Hector  to  crouch  down,  leaving  a  small 
space  for  the  free  use  of  his  bo'",  while  concealed 
at  the  prow  she  gently  and  noiselessly  paddled 
the  canoe  from  the  shore  among  the  rice-beds, 
letting  it  remain  stationary  or  merely  rocking 
to  and  fro  with  the  undulatory  motion  of  the 


wateiB. 


m- 


#•1 


THE   CANADIAN  CRUSOES. 


207 


The  unsuspecting  birds,  deceived  into  full 
Becuritj,  eagerly  pursued  their  pastime  or  their 
prey,  and  it  was  no  difficult  matter  for  the  hid- 
den archer  to  hit  many  a  black  duck  or  teal  or 
whistlewiug,  as  it  floated  securely  on  the 
placid  water,  or  rose  to  shift  its  place  a  few 
yards  up  or  down  the  stream.  Soon  the  lake 
around  was  strewed  with  the  feathered  game, 
which  Wolfe,  cheered  on  by  Louis,  who  was 
stationed  on  the  shore,  brought  to  land. 

Indiana  told  Hector  that  this  was  the  season 
when  the  Indians  made  great  gatherings  on  the 
lake  for  duck-shooting,  which  they  pursued  much 
after  the  same  fashion  as  that  which  has  been 
described,  only  instead  of  one,  a  dozen  or  more 
canoes  would  be  thus  disguised  with  boughs, 
with  others  stationed  at  different  parts  of  the 
lake,  or  under  the  shelter  of  the  island,  to  collect 
the  birds.  This  sport  was  generally  finished  by 
a  great  feast. 

The  Indians  offered  the  first  of  the  birds  as 
an  oblation  to  the  Great  Spirit,  as  a  grateful 
acknowledgment  of  his  bounty  in  having 
allowed  them  to  gather  food  thus  plentifully  for 
their  families;  sometimes  distant  tribes  with 
whom  they  were  on  terms  of  friendship  were 
invited  to  share  the  sport  and  partake  of  the 
spoils. 

Indiana  could  not  understand  why  Hector 


"1 


f 


208 


THE  CANADIAN   CRUSOES. 


iii 


■|, 


did  not  follow  the  custom  of  her  Indian  fathers, 
and  offer  the  first  duck  or  the  best  fish  to  pro- 
pitiate the  Great  Spirit.  Hector  told  her  that 
the  God  he  worshipped  desired  no  sacrifice  ;  that 
his  holy  Son,  when  he  came  down  from  heaven 
and  gave  himself  as  a  sacrifice  for  the  sins  of 
the  world,  had  satisfied  his  Father,  the  Great 
Spirit,  an  hundred-fold. 

Thej  feasted  now  continually  upon  the  water- 
fowl, and  Catharine  learned  from  Indiana  how 
to  skin  them,  and  so  preserve  the  feathers  for 
making  tippets,  and  bonnets,  and  ornamental 
trimmings,  which  are  not  only  warm,  but  light 
and  very  becoming.     They  split  open  any  of  the 
birds  that  they  did  not  require  for  present  con- 
sumption, and  these  they  dried  for  winter  store, 
.  smoking  some  after  the  manner  that  the  Shet- 
landers  and  Orkney  people  smoke  the  solan 
geese:   their    shanty  displayed    an    abundant 
store  of  provisions,  fish,  flesh,  and  fowl,  besides 
baskets  of  wild  rice,  and  bags  of  dried  fruit. 

One  day  Indiana  came  in  from  the  brow  of 
the  hill,  and  told  the  boys  that  the  lake  eastward 
was  covered  with  canoes ;  she  showed,  by  hold- 
ing up  her  two  hands  and  then  three  fingers,  that 
she  had  counted  thirteen.  The  tribes  had  met 
for  the  annual  duck-feast,  and  for  the  rice-harvest. 
She  advised  them  to  put  out  the  fire,  so  that  no 
smoke  might  be  seen  to  attract  them ;  but  said 


THE  CANADIAN   CRUSOES. 


209 


they  would  not  leave  the  lake  for  hunting  over 
the  plains  just  then,  as  the  camp  was  lower  down 
.  on  the  point*  east  of  the  mouth  of  a  big  river, 
which  she  called  "  Otonabee." 

Hector  asked  Indiana  if  she  would  go  away 
and  leave  them,  in  the  event  of  meeting  with 
any  of  her  own  tribe.  The  girl  cast  her  eyes 
on  the  earth  in  silence ;  a  dark  cloud  seemed  to 
gather  over  her  face. 

"If  they  should  prove  to  be  any  of  your 
father's  people,  or  a  friendly  tribe,  would  you 
go  away  with  them?"  he  again  repeated,  to 
which  she  solemnly  replied, 

"  Indiana  has  no  father,  no  tribe,  no  people ; 
no  blood  of  her  father's  warms  the  heart  of  any 
man,  woman,  or  child,  saving  myself  alone ;  but 
Indiana  is  a  brave,  and  the  daughter  of  a  brave, 
and  will  not  shrink  from  danger :  her  heart  is 
warm;  red  blood  flows  warm  here,"  and  she 
laid  her  hand  on  her  heart.  Then  lifting  up 
her  hand,  she  said  with  slow  but  impassioned 
tone,  "  They  left  not  one  drop  of  living  blood  to 
flow  in  any  veins  but  these,"  and  her  eyes  were 
raised,  and  her  arms  stretched  upwards  towards 

*  This  point,  commonly  known  aa  Anderson's  Point,  now  the 
iCttt  of  the  Indian  village,  used  iu  former  times  to  be  a  great 
place  of  rendezvous  for  the  Indians,  and  was  the  site  of  a  mur- 
derous carnage  or  massacre  that  took  place  about  eighty  years 
ggo  ;  the  wor-weupona  and  hnne.R  of  the  Indians  are  of^en  tamed 
up  with  the  plough  at  this  day. 


\k 


18 


.* 


■3  1} 


210 


THE   CANADIAN   CRUSOES 


heaven,  as  though  calling  down  vengeance  on 
the  murderers  of  her  father's  house. 

"My  father  was  a  Mohawk,  the  son  of  a 
great  chief,  who  owned  these  hunting-grounds 
far  as  your  eye  can  see  to  the  rising  and  setting 
sun,  along  the  big  waters  of  the  big  lakes ;  but  the 
Ojebwas,  a  portion  of  the  Chippewa  nation,  by 
treachery  cut  off  my  father's  people  by  hundreds 
in  cold  blood,  when  they  were  defenceless  and 
at  rest.  It  was  a  bloody  day  and  a  bloody 
deed." 

Instead  of  hiding  herself,  as  Hector  and  Louis 
strongly  advised  the  young  Mohawk  to  do,  she 
preferred  remaining  as  a  scout,  she  said,  under 
the  cover  of  the  bushes  on  the  edge  of  the  steep 
that  overlooked  the  lake,  to  watch  their  move- 
ments.    She  told  Hector  to  be  under  no  apppre- 
hension  if  the  Indians  came  to  the  hut ;  not  to 
attempt  to  conceal  themselves,  but  offer  them 
food  to  eat  and  water  to  drink.     "  If  they  come 
to  the  house  and  find  you  away,  they  will  take 
your  stores  and  burn  your  roof,  suspecting  that 
you  are  afraid  to  meet  them  openly ;  but  they 
will  not  harm  you  if  you  meet  them  with  open 
hand  and'fearless  brow :  if  they  eat  of  your  bread 
they  will  not  harm  you ;  me  they  would  kill  by 
a  cruel  death— the  war-knife  is  in  their  heart 
ftgaiust  the  daughter  of  the  brave." 

The  bovs  though t,  Tnrliflnn'si    arlxn'no  r,r^r^A   ^^.A 


,fr 


THE  CANADIAN   CRUS0E9. 


211 


they  felt  no  fear  for  themselves,  only  for  Cath- 
arine, whom  they  counselled  to  remain  in  the 
ehanty  with  Wolfe. 

The  Indians  seemed  intent  only  on  the  sport 
which  they  had  come  to  enjoy,  seeming  in  high 
glee,  and  as  far  as  they  could  see  quite  peaceably 
disposed ;  every  night  they  returned  to  the  camp 
on  the  north  side,  and  the  boys  could  see  their 
fires  gleaming  among  the  trees  on  the  opposite 
shore,  and  now  and  then  in  the  stillness  of  the 
evening  their  wild  shouts  of  revelry  would  come 
faintly  to  their  ears,  borne  by  the  breeze  over 
the  waters  of  the  lake. 

The  allusion  that  Indiana  had  made  to  her 
own  history,  though  conveyed  in  broken  and 
hardly  intelligible  language,  had  awakened  feel- 
ings of  deep  interest  for  her  in  the  breasts  of 
her  faithful  friends.  Many  months  after  this 
she  related  to  her  wondering  auditors  the  fearful 
story  of  the  massacre  of  her  kindred,  and  which 
I  may  as  well  relate,  as  I  have  raised  the  curi- 
osity of  my  youthful  readers,  though  to  do  so 
I  must  render  it  in  my  own  language,  as  the 
broken,  half-formed  sentences  in  which  its  facts 
were  conveyed  to  "the  ears  of  my  Canadian 
Crusoes  would  be  unintelligible  to  my  youno- 
friends.* 

*  The  facto  of  this  narmtivA  wAm  wnt'here'i  ft""*  *■*•«  i: «# 

the  eldeat  son  of  a  Bice  Lake  chief.    I  have  preferred  giving »» 


ii  t 


¥ 


^i\ 


; 


I 


!' 


212 


THE   CANADIAN   CRUSOES. 


There  had  been  for  some  time  a  jealous  feel- 
ing existing  between  the  chiefs  of  two  principal 
tribes  of  the  Ojcbwas  and  the  Mohawks,  which 
like  a  smothered  lire  had  burnt  in  the  heart  of 
each,  without  having  burst  into  a  decided  blaze 
— for  each  strove  to  compass  his  ends  and  obtain 
the  advantage  over  the  other  by  covert  means. 
The  tribe  of  the  Mohawks  of  which  I  now 
speak,  claimed  the  southern  shores  of  the  Rice 
Lake  for  their  hunting-grounds,  and  certain 
islands  and  parts  of  the  lake  for  fishing,  while 
that  of  the  Ojcbwas  considered  themselves 
masters  of  the  northern  shores  and  certain  rights 
of  water  besides.  Possibly  it  was  about  these 
rights  that  the  quarrel  originated,  but  if  so,  it 
was  not  openly  avowed  between  the  "  Black 
Snake,"  (that  was  the  totem  borne  by  the  Mo- 
hawk chief,)  and  the  "  Bald  Eagle"  (the  totem 
of  the  Ojebwa). 

These  chiefs  had  each  a  sou,  and  the  Bald 
Eagle  had  also  a  daughter  of  great  and  rare 
beauty,  called  by  her  people  "  The  Beam  of 
the  Morning ;"  she  was  the  admiration  of  Mo- 
hawks as  well  as  Ojeb)was,  and  many  of  the 
young  men  of  both  the  tribes  had  sought  her 
hand,  but  hitherto  in  vain.  Among  her  numer- 
ous suitors  the  son  of  the  Black  Snake  seemed 


in  the  present  form,  rather  than  as  the  story  of  the  Indian  glrU 
.  Simple  as  it  is,  it  is  matter  of  history 


THE   CANADIAN  ORUSOES. 


213 


Lhe  Indian  glrU 


to  be  the  most  enamoured  of  her  beauty;  and 
it  was  probably  with  some  intention  of  winning 
the  favour  of  the  young  Ojebwa  squaw  for  hia 
son,  that  the  Black  Snake  accepted  the  formal 
invitation  of  the  Bald  Eagle  to  come  to  his 
hunting-grounds  during  the  rice-harvest,  and 
ehoot  deer  and  ducks  on  the  lake,  and  to  ratify 
a  truce  which  had  been  for  some  time  set  on  foot 
between  them ;  but  while  outwardly  professing 
friendship  and  a  desire  for  peace,  inwardly  the 
fire  of  hatred  burned  fiercely  in  the  breast  of  the 
Black  Snake  against  the  Ojebwa  chief  and  his 
only  son,  a  young  man  of  great  promise,  re- 
nowned among  his  tribe  as  a  great  hunter  and 
warrior,  but  who  had  once  offended  the  Mohawk 
chief  by  declining  a  matrimonial  alliance  with 
one  of  the  daughters  of  a  chief  of  inferior  rank, 
who  was  closely  connected  to  him  by  marriage. 
This  affront  rankled  in  the  heart  of  the  Black 
Snake,  though  outwardly  he  afi"Scted  to  have 
forgiven  and  forgotten  the  slight  that  had  been 
put  upon  his  relative. 

The  hunting  had  been  carried  on  for  some 
days  very  amicably,  when  one  day  the  Bald 
Eagle  was  requested,  with  all  due  attention  to 
Indian  etiquette,  to  go  to  the  wigwam  of  the 
Black  Snake.  On  entering  the  lodge,  he  per- 
ceived the  Mohawk  strangely  disordered ;  he  rose 
from  his  mat,  on  which  he  had  been  sleeping, 


1    m 


I 


214 


THE   CANADIAN   CRUSOES. 


with  a  countenance  fearfully  distorted,  his  eyea 
glaring  hideously,  his  whole  frame  convulsed, 
and  writhing  as  in  fearful  bodily  anguish,  and 
casting  himself  upon  the  ground,  he  rolled  and 
grovelled  on  the  earth,  uttering  frightful  yells 
and  groans. 

The  Bald  Eagle  was  moved  at  the  distressing 
state  in  which  he  found  his  guest,  and  asked  the 
cause  of  his  disorder,  but  this  the  other  refused 
to  tell.  After  some  hours  the  fit  appeared  to 
subside,  but  the  chief  remained  moody  and  silent. 
The  following  day  the  same  scene  was  repeated, 
and  on  the  third,  when  the  fit  seemed  to  have 
increased  in  bodily  agony,  with  great  apparent 
reluctance,  wrung  seemingly  from  him  by  the 
importunity  of  his  host,  he  consented  to  reveal 
the  cause,  which  was,  that  the  Bad  Spirit  had 
told  him  that  these  bodily  tortures  could  not 
cease  till  the  only  son  of  his  friend,  the  Ojebwa 
chief,  had  been  sacrificed  to  appease  his  anger — 
neither  could  peace  long  continue  between  the 
two  nations  until  this  deed  had  been  done  ;  and 
not  only  must  the  chiefs  son  be  slain,  but  he 
must  be  pierced  by  his  own  father's  hand,  and 
his  flesh  served  up  at  a  feast  at  which  the  father 
must  preside.  The  Black  Snake  affected  the 
utmost  horror  and  aversion  at  so  bloody  and 
unnatural  a  deed  being  committed  to  save  his 
life  and  the  happiness  of  his  tribe,  but  the  peace 


THE   CANADIAN   CRUSOES. 


216 


was  to  be  ratified  for  ever  if  the  sacrifice  was 
made,— if  not,  war  to  the  knife  was  to  be  ever 
between  the  Mohawks  and  Ojebwas. 

The  Bald  Eagle  seeing  that  his  treacherous 
guest  would  make  this  an  occasion  of  renewing 
a  deadly  warfare,  for  which  possibly  he  was  not 
at  the  time  well  prepared,  assumed  a  stoical 
calmness,  and  replied, 

"  Be  it  so ;  great  is  the  power  of  the  Bad  Spirit 
to  cause  evil  to  the  tribes  of  the  chiefs  that  rebel 
against  his  will.  My  sou  shall  be  sacrificed  by  , 
my  hand,  that  the  evil  one  may  be  appeased 
and  that  the  Black  Snake's  body  may  have  ease,' 
and  his  people  rest  beside  the  fires  of  their 
lodges  in  peace." 

"The  Bald  Eagle  has  spoken  like  a  chief 
with  a  large  heart,"  was  the  specious  response 
of  the  wily  Mohawk;  "moreover,  the  Good 
Spirit  also  appeared,  and  said,  'Let  the  Black 
Snake's  son  and  the  Bald  Eagle's  daughter 
become  man  and  wife,  that  peace  may  be  found 
to  dwell  among  the  lodges,  and  the  war-hatchet 
be  buried  for  ever.' " 

"  The  Beam  of  the  Morning  shall  become  the 
wife  of  the  Young  Pine,"  was  the  courteous 
answer;  but  stern  revenge  lay  deep  hidden  be- 
neath  the  unmoved  brow  and  passionless  lip. 

The  fatal  day  arrived;  the  Bald  Ea^le.  with 
uniimching   hand   and   eye  that  dropped    no 


''It 


I 


f      i 


216 


THE   CANADIAN  CRUSOES. 


human  tear  of  sorrow  for  the  son  of  his  love, 
plunged  the  weapon  into  his  heart  with  Sp.irtan- 
like  firmness.     The  fearful  feast  of  human  flesh 
was  prepared,  and  that  old  chief,  pale  but  un- 
moved,  presided    over  the  ceremonies.      The 
war-dance  was  danced  around  the  sacrifice,  and 
all  went  off  well,  as  if  no  such  fearful  rite  had 
been  enacted :  but  a  fearful  retribution  w?.^  at 
hand.     The  Young  Pine  sought  the  tent  of  the 
Bald  Eagle's  daughter  that  evening,  and  was 
received  with  all  due  deference,  as  a  son  of  so 
great  a  chief  as  the  Black  Snake  merited ;  he 
was  regarded  now  as  a  successful  suitor,  and 
intoxicated  with  the  beauty  of  Ihe  Beam  of  the 
Morning,  pressed  her  to  allow  the  marriage  to 
take  place  in  a  few  days.     The  bride  consented, 
and  a  day  was  named  for  the  wedding  feas^  to 
be  celebrated,  and  that  due  honour  might  be 
given  to  so  great  an  event,  invitations  were  senfc 
out  to  the  principal  families  of  the  Mohawk 
tribe,  and  these  amounted  to  several  hundreds 
of  souls,  while  the  young  Ojebwa  hunters  were 
despatched  up  the  river  and  to  different  parts  of 
the  country,  avowee' ly  to  collect  venison,  beaver, 
and  other  delicacieb  to  regale  their  guests,  but 
in  reality  to  summon  by  means  of  trusty  scouts 
a  large  war  party  from  the  small  lakes,  to  be  in 
readiness  to  take  part  in  the  deadly  revenge 
that  was  preparing  for  their  enemies. 


r 


THE  CANADIAN   CRUS0E3. 


217 


of  his  love, 
/•ith  Spnrtan- 
human  flesh 
pale  but  un- 
onies.      The 
sacrifice,  and 
rful  rite  had 
)ution  w?,s  at 
e  tent  of  the 
ng,  and  was 
?  a  son  of  so 
merited ;  he 
1  suitor,  and 
Beam  of  the 
5  marriage  to 
de  consented, 
Iding  feas^  to 
)ur  might  be 
Dns  were  sent 
the  Mohawk 
iral  hundreds 
hunters  were 
erent  parts  of 
nison,  beaver, 
jir  guests,  but 
trusty  scouts 
akes,  to  be  in 
ladly  revenge 

L68. 


Meantime  the  squaws  pitched  the  nuptial  tent, 
and  prepared  the  bridal  ornaments.     A  large 
wigwam  capable  of  containing  all  the  expected 
guests  was  then  constructed,  adorned  with  the 
thick  branches  of  evergreens  so  artfully  con- 
trived  as  to  be  capable  of  concealing  the  armed 
Ojebwas  and  their  allies,  who  in  t  le  time  were 
introduced  beneath  this  leafy  screei:,  armed  with 
the   murderous  tomahawk   and  scalping-knife 
with  which  to  spring  upon  their  defenceless  and 
unsuspecting  guests.     According  to  the  etiquette 
always  observed  upon  such  occasions,  all  deadly 
weapons  were  left  outside  the  tent.     The  bride- 
groom  had   been   conducted  with  songs  and 
dancing  to  the  tent  of  the  bride.     The  guests, 
to  the  number  of  several  hundred  naked  and 
painted  warriors,  were  assembled.     The  feast 
was  declared  to  be  ready ;  a  great  iron  pot  or 
kettle  occupied  the  centre  of  the  tent.     Ac- 
cording to  the  custom  of  the  Indians,  the  father 
of  the  bridegroom  was  invited  to  lift  the  most 
important  dish  from  the  pot,  whilst  the  warriors' 
commenced  their  war-dance  around  him.     This 
dish   was  usually   a  bear's  head,   which   was 
fastened  to  a  string  left  for  the  purpose  of  raising 
it  from  the  pot. 

"  Let  the  Black  Snake,  the  great  chief  of  the 
Mohawks,  draw  up  the  head  and  set  it  on  the 
table,  that  bis  people  may  eat  and  make  merry, 
19 


I 


.4P 


I   f      ! 


21S 


THE  CANADIAN    CRUSOES. 


and  that  his  wise  heart  may  be  glad,"  were  the 
scornful  words  of  the  Bald  Eagle. 

A  yell  of  horror  burst  from  the  lips  of  the 
horror-stricken  father,  as  he  lifted  to  view  the 
fresh  and  gory  head  of  his  only  son,  the  happy 
bridegroom  of  the  lovely  daughter  of  the  Ojebwa 

chief. 

"  Ha  1"  shouted  the  Bald  Eagle,  "  is  the  great 
chief  of  the  Mohawks  a  squaw,  that  his  blood 
grows  white  and  his  heart  trembles  at  the  sight 
of  his  son,  the  bridegroom  of  the  Beam  of  the 
Morning?  The  Bald  Eagle  gave  neither  sigh 
nor  groan  when  he  plunged  the  knife  into  the 
heart  of  his  child.  Come,  brother,  take  the 
knife ;  taste  the  flesh  and  drink  the  blood  of  thy 
son :  the  Bald  Eagle  shrank  not  when  you  bade 
him  partake  of  the  feast  that  was  prepared  from 
his  young  warrior's  body." 

The  wretched  father  dashed  himself  upon  the 
earth,  while  his  cries  and  bowlings  rent  the  air ; 
those  cries  were  answered  by  the  war-whoop  of 
the  ambushed  Ojebwas,  as  they  sprang  to  their 
feet,  and  with  deafening  yells  attacked  the 
guests,  who,  panic-stricken,  naked,  and  defence- 
less, fell  an  easy  prey  to  their  infuriated  enemies. 
Not  one  living  foe  escaped  to  tell  the  tale  of 
that  fearful  marriage  feast  A  second  Judith 
had  the  Indian  girl  proved.  It  was  her  plighted 
hand  that  had  severed  the  head  (#  her  unsua- 


THE  CANADIAN  CBDSOKg.  219 

pecting  bridegroom  to  complete  the  fearful  vea- 
geanoe  that  had  been  devised  in  return  for  the 
meredess  and  horrible  murder  of  her  brother 

Nor  v^-as  the  saoriflee  yet  finished,  for  with 
fearful  enes  the  Indian  seized  upon  the  eanoea 
of  their  enemies,  and  with  the  utmost  sp.ed 
urged  by  unsatisfied  revenge,  hurried  down'the 
lake  to  an  island  where  the  women  and  children 
and  such  of  the  aged  or  young  men  ^  were 
not  included  among  the  wedding  guests,  were 
encamped   m   unsuspecting   security.      Panic- 

ba"tnVl     ^^"""""^  ^®'"''  "»  distance, 
but  fell  like  sheep  appointed  for  the  slaughter 

tie  Ojebwas  slew  there  the  grey-head  with  the 

infant  of  days.    But  while  the  youths  and  old 

men  tamely  yielded  to  their  enemies,  there  was 

of  her  father,  armed  herself  with  the  war-club 
and  kmfe,  and  boldly  withstood  the  successful 

Zrch-  Al  ":  '""'  °'  *"  '^"' "'  "^^  ='»S 
tered  chief  the  Amazon  defended  her  children  • 

while  the  war-lightning  kindled  in  her  dark 

eye,  she  called  aloud  in  scornful  tones  to  her 

people  to  hide  themselves  in  the  tents  of  thel 

women  who  alone  were  Iraves,  and  would  flgh 

their  battles.     Fiercely  she  taunted  the  m!n 

but  they  shrank  from  the  unequal  contest,  and 

Aealone  was  found  to  deal  the  death-blow 

"i-u  ...8  .oe,  tui  overpowered  with  numbers, 


II 


J(     I 

i    I 


220 


THE   CANADIAN   CRUSOES. 


and  pierced  with  frightful  wounds,  she  fell  sing- 
ing  her  own  death-song  and  raising  the  wail  foi 
the  dead  who  lay  around  her.    Night  closed  in, 
but  the  work  of  blood  still  continued,  till  not  a 
victim  was  found,  and  again  they  went  forth  on 
their  exterminating  work.    Lower  down  they 
found  another  encampment,  and  there  also  they 
slew  all  the  inhabitants  of  the  lodges ;  they  then 
L-eturned  back  to  the  island,  to  gather  together 
their  dead  and  collect  the  spoils  of  their  tents. 
They  were  weary  with  the  fatigue  of  the  slaugh- 
ter  of  that  fearful  day ;  they  were  tired  of  blood- 
shedding;  the  retribution  had  satisfied  even 
their  love  of  blood :  and  when  they  found,  on 
returning  to  the  spot  where  the  heroine  had 
stood  at  bay,  one  young  solitary  female  sitting 
beside  the  corpse  of  that  dauntless  woman,  her 
mother,  they  led  her  away,  and  ^id  all  that 
their  savage  nature  could  suggest  to  soften  her 
anguish  and  dry  her  tears.     They  brought  her 
to°the  tents  of  their  women,  and  clothed  and 
fed  her,  and  bade  her  be  comforted ;  but  her 
young  heart  burned  within  her,  and  she  refused 
consolation.    She  could  not  forget  the  wronga 
of  her  people :  she  was  the  only  living  creature 
left  of  the  Mohawks  on  that  island.    The  young 
girl  was  Indiana,  the  same  whom  Hector  Max- 
well had  found,  wounded  and  bound,  to  perisb 
with  hunger  and  thirst  on  Bare- hill. 


THE  CANADIAN  0EUSOE3.  221 

Brooding  with  revenge  in  her  heart  the 
young  g,rl  told  them  that  she  had  stolen  unper! 
ce.ved  into  the  tent  of  the  Bald  Eagle  anl 
a.n>ed  a  knife  at  his  throat,  but  the  £bW 

ZT,  rrt^  ^'  "-"^ "'''"'  ^™"g  ™-.  who  hal 
watched  l.er  enter  the  old  ehief 's  tent.    A  eoun- 
C.1  was  called,  and  she  was  taken  to  Bare  hm 
bot.d,  and  left  in  the  sad  state  alreTd;'^'^ 

It  was  with  feelings  of  horror  and  terror  that 
^e  Chnsfan  children  listened  to  this  fearful 
tele,  and  Indiana  read  in  their  averted  eyes  and 

C^Zt  't^f  "*  ">>'*  "^-^  -^lof 
t  w^  tw      °.^  ^^'^  ^P'"-^^  *^»-    And  then 

frees,  in  the  soft  misty  light  of  an  Indian  sum- 

ZZX^'  ''''*''"'"^'  with  simple  earnert. 
Wnl^f  ^T^  ^'^'P'^  ""o^  heavenly 

Wns  of  mercy  and  forgiveness  which  her  Ee- 
aeemer  had  set  forth  hv  1,;=  i,-f„  i,-    j       . 
and  his  death.  ^       ^^'-  ""^  '^°°*""^ 

Saviours  face  in  heaven,  and  dwell  with  him 
n  joy  and  peace  for  ever,  she  must  learn  to  pray 
for  those  dreadful  men  who  had  made  l,er  fatlieT 
less  and  motherless,  and  her  home  n  desolation  • 
that  the  Are  of  revenge  must  be  quenched  witl  n 
her  hear^  and  the  spirit  of  love  done  find  Zl 
wi™n  „,  „r  she  could  not  become  the  child  of 


m  1!  1 
I 


1! 


i 


222 


THE   CANADIAN   CRUSOES. 


God  and  an  inheritor  of  the  kingdom  of  heavea 
How  hard  were  these  conditions  to  the  young 
heathen, — how  contrary  to  her  nature,  to  all 
that  she  had  been  taught  in  the  tents  of  her 
fathers,  where  revenge  was  virtue,  and  to  take 
the  scalp  of  an  enemy  a  glorious  thing ! 

Yet  when  she  contrasted  the  gentle,  kind,  and 
dove-like  characters  of  her  Christian  friends 
with  the  fierce,  bloody  people  of  her  tribe  and 
of  her  Ojebwa  enemies,  she  could  not  but  own 
they  were  more  worthy  of  love  and  admiration : 
had  they  not  found  her  a  poor,  miserable,  trem- 
bling captive,  unbound  her,  fed  and  cherished 
her,  pouring  the  balm  of  consolation  into  her 
wounded  heart,  and  leading  her  in  bands  of 
tenderest  love  to  forsake  those  wild  and  fearful 
passions  that  warred  in  her  soul,  and  bringing 
her  to  the  feet  of  the  Saviour,  to  become  hia 
meek  and  holy  child,  a  lamb  of  his  "  extended  , 
fold?"*  ^ 

*  The  Indian  who  related  thU^Wfativo  to  me  was  a^son  of  a 
Bice  Lake  chief,  Mosang  Poudash  by  name,  who  vouoh^lsfer 
its  truth  na  an  historic  fact  remembered  by  his  father,  whose 
grandsire  had  been  one  of  the  actors  in  the  massacre.  Mosanjfi,. 
Poudash  promised  to  write  down  the  legend,  and  did  so,  in  ' 
part,  but  made  such  confusion  between  hia  imperfect  English 
and  Indian  language,  that  the  MS.  was  unavailable  for  copying. 


THB  CANADIAN  CRUSOKS. 


22a 


CHAPTER   IX. 

"  The  horn  of  the  hunter  is  heard  on  the  hill." 

Irish  Song. 

TTTHILE  the  Indians  were  actively  pursuing 
their  sports  on  the  lake,  shooting  wild 
fowl,  and  hunting   and   fishing  by  torch-light 
80  exciting  was   the    amusement   of  watching 
them,  that    the   two  lads,  Hector  and  Louis 
quite  forgot  all  sense  of  danger  in  the  enjoy- 
ment of  lying  or  sitting  on  the  brow  of  the 
mount  near  the   great  ravine,  and  looking  af 
their  proceedings.     Once  or  twice  the  lads  were 
near  betraying  themselves   to  the  Indians  by 
raismg  a  shout  of  delight,  at  some  skilful  ma- 
noeuvre that  excited  their  unqualified  admiration 
and,  a,pplause. 

V  :it'bight,  when  the  canoes  had  all  retired  to 
the  camp  on  the  north  shore,  and  all  fear  of 
detection  had  ceased  for  the  time,  they  lighted 
up  their  shanty  fire,  and  cooked  a  good  sup- 
per, and  also  prepared  sufficiency  of  food  for  the 
following  day.  The  Indians  remained  for  a 
fortnight;  at  the  end  of  that  time  Indiana  who 
^^aa  a  watchful  spy  on  their  movements.'  told 
succor  ana  i^ouis  that  the  camp  was  broken  up 


224 


THE   CANADIAN   CRUSOKS. 


!  i; 


fprf 


111 


and  that  the  Indians  had  gone  up  the  river,  and 
would  not  return  again  for  some  weeks.  The 
departure  ot  the  Indians  was  a  matter  of  great 
rejoicing  to  Catharine,  whose  dread  of  these 
savages  had  greatly  increased  since  she  had 
been  made  acquainted  with  the  fearful  deeds 
which  Indiana  had  described ;  and  what  reliance 
could  sho^'feel  in  people  who  regarded  deeds 
of  blood  and  vengeance  as  acts  of  virtuous 
heroism  ? 

Once,  and  only  once  during  their  stay,  the 
Indians  had  passed  within  a  short  distance  of 
their  dwelling ;  but  they  ^vere  in  full  chase  of  a 
bear,  which  had  been  seen  crossing  the  deep  ra- 
'  vine  near  Mount  Ararat,  and  they  had  been  too 
intent  upon  their  game  to  notice  the  shanty,  or 
had  taken  it  for  the  shelter  of  some  trapper  if  it 
had  been  seen,  for  they  never  turned  out  of  their 
path,  and  Catharine,  who  was  alone  at  the  time, 
drawing  water  from  the  spring,  was  so  com- 
pletely concealed  by  the  high  bank  above  her, 
that  she  had  quite  escaped  their  notice.  For- 
tunately, Indiana  gave  the  two  boj'-s  a  signal  to 
conceal  themselves  when  she  saw  them  enter 
the  ravine;  and  effectually  hidden  among  the 
thick  grey  mossy  trunks  of  the  cedars  at  the 
lake  shore,  they  remained  secure  from  molesta- 
tion, while  the  Indian  girl  dropped  noiselessly 
down  amonsL  the  tangled  thicket  of  wild  vines 


THE  CANADIAN   CflUSOES.  225 

and  brushwood,  which  she  drew  cautiously  over 

her  and  closed  her  eyes,  lest,  as  she  naively  re. 

marked  their  glitter  should,  be  seen  and  betray 

ner  to  her  enemies.  "^ 

It  was  a  moment  of  intense  anxiety  to  our 

poor  wanderers,  whose  terrors  were  more  excited 

on  behalf  of  the  young  Mohawk  than  for- them- 

selves,  and  they  congratulated  her  on  fe  escape 

with  affectionate  warmth. 

"  Are  my  white  brothers  afraid  to  die  ?"  waa 

he  young  sqnaw's  half-scornful  reply.  "  Indiana 

^^the  daughter  of  a  brave:  she  fears  not  to 

The  latter  end  of  September  and  the  first 
CO  d     1,°'*^^'  ^^'^  been  stormy  and  even 

over,  the  nights  were  often  illuminated  by  the 
Aurora  borealis,  which  might  be  seen  forming 

iTkc  to  th  ""  -'"'i"^^'^  •'"8'"--  --  *f  • 

he  L  °°"?  "-''  °°"'>-^='«'ern  portions  of 

the  homon,  or  shooting  upwards,  in  ever-varv- 
.ngshafts  of  greenish  light,  now  hiding,  now  re- 
vealing the  .,tars,  which  shone  with  softlned' 
radiance  through  the  .ilvery  veil  that  dimmed 

^eXer   h    ''•    ^°'"'*'""  '"'  -"^^  "■§'>'»  to- 
gether the  same  appearance  might  be  seen  a  ,d.  A 

was  ,^„,„y  the  forerunner  of 'fros^wea'the^^ 

though  occasionally  it  was  the  precn^r  of  cold 

Winds  anrl  h^a^r^  »„,-^-  ^  ^  *""^^ 


'H 


THE   CANADIAN   CRUSOES. 

The  Indian  girl  regarded  it  with  superstitioua 
feelings,  but  whether  as  an  omen  for  good  or  ill, 
she  would  not  tell.  On  all  matters  connected 
with  her  religious  notions  she  was  shy  and  re- 
served, though  occasionally  she  unconsciously 
revealed  them.  Thus  the  warnings  of  death  or 
misfortunes  were  revealed  to  her  by  certain  omi- 
nous sounds  in  the  woods,  the  appearance  of 
strange  birds  or  animals,  or  the  moaniugs  of 
others.  The  screeching  of  the  owl,  i  e  bleating 
of  the  doe,  or  barking  of  the  fox,  were  evil  au- 
guries, while  the  flight  of  the  eagle  and  the 
croaking  of  the  raven  were  omens  of  good.  She 
put  faith  in  dreams,  and  would  foretell  good  or 
evil  fortune  from  them;  she  could  read  the 
morning  and  evening  clouds,  and  kne^  from  vari- 
ous appearances  of  the  sky,  or  the  coming  or  de- 
parting of  certain  birds  or  insects,  changes  in  the 
atmosphere.  Her  ear  was  quick  in  distinguish- 
ing the  changet  in  the  voices  of  the  birds  or  ani- 
mals ;  she  knew  the  times  of  their  coming  and 
going,  and  her  eye  was  quick  to  see  as  her  ear  to 
detect  sounds.  Her  voice  was  soft,  and  low,  and 
plaintive,  and  she  delighted  in  imitating  the  little 
ballads  or  hymns  that  Catharine  sung ;  though 
she  knew  nothing  of  their  meaning,  she  would 
catch  the  tunes,  and  sing  the  song  with  Catha- 
rine, touching  the  hearts  of  her  delighted  audi 
tors  by  the  melody  and  pathos  of  her  voice. 


THE   CA.NADIAN   CRUSOES.  227 

tmts  of  ,t,  changing  woods  on  shore  and  iafand 

by  a  soft,  sighmg  wind,  which  rustled  the  dvL» 
foliage  as  it  swept  by.  ^    ^T 

The  Indian  summer  is  the  harvest  of  th. 
Indian  tribes  It  is  during  this  selTLuhe: 
hant  and  shoot  the  wild  fowl  ft,..  ? 

their  annual  flights  to  visit  I    wat.Tth: 

~V5'and^flra:dr  'ZTT 

altered  not^heirtsUtrrrhT' 
fathers,  so  it  was  with  them  *"" 

Loms  had  heard  so  much  of  ti,<,  n.      ,. 

and  explore  the  entrance,  and  the  shores  of  th! 
lake  ou  that  side,  which  hitherto  thev  had  !ot 
ventured  to  do,  for  fear  of  V,  •         ^  °' 

the  Indian.     "  o        !         ^^'"S  surprised  by 
Indiat^.       Some  fine  day,"  said  I^ais,  «  we 


H   'I 


228 


THE   CANADIAN   CRUSOES. 


I     ! 


will  go  out  in  the  canoe,  explore  the  distant 
islands,  and  go  up  the  river  a  little  way." 

Hector  advised  visiting  all  the  islands  by 
turns,  beginning  at  the  little  islet  which  looks 
in  the  distance  like  a  boat  in  full  sail ;  it  is  level 
with  the  water,  and  has  only  three  or  four  trees 
upon  it.  The  name  they  had  given  to  it  was 
"  Ship  Island."  The  Indians  have  some  name 
for  it  which  I  have  forgotten ;  but  it  means,  I 
have  been  told,  "  Witch  Island."  Hector's  plan 
met  with  general  approbation,  and  they  resolved 
to  take  provisions  with  them  for  several  days,  and 
visit  the  islands  and  go  up  the  river,  passing  the 
night  under  the  shelter  of  the  thick  trees  on  the 
shore  wherever  they  found  a  pleasant  halting- 
place. 

The  weather  was  mild  and  warm,  the  lake 
was  as  clear  and  calm  as  a  mirror,  and  in  joyous 
mood  our  little  party  embarked  and  paddled  up 
the  lake,  first  to  Ship  Island — but  this  did  not 
detain  them  many  minutes.  They  then  went  to 
Grape  Island,  which  they  so  named  ft*om  the 
abundance  of  wild  vines,  now  rich  with  purple 
clusters  of  the  ripe  grapes, — tart,  but  still  not  to 
be  despised  by  our  young  adventurers;  and 
they  brought  away  a  large  birch  basket  heaped 
up  with  the  jfruit.  "  Ah,  if  we  had  but  a  good 
cake  of  maple  sugar,  now,  to   preserve    our 


THE   CANAUIAX   CRUSOES. 


229 


grapes  with,  and  make  such  grape  jelly  as  mv 

mother  makes  I"  said  Louis.    ^    "^    ''    "^       "^^ 

"  If  we  find  out  a  sugar-bush  we  will  mana^re 

to    make    plenty   of   sugar,"  said    Catharine: 

there  are  maples  not  two  hundred  yards  from 

he  shanty,  near  the  side  of  the  steep  bank  to 

the   east.      You  remember  the  pleasant    spot  // 

vvhich  we  named  the  Happy  Valley,*  where  the  f 

bright  creek  runs,  dancing  along  so  merrilyr  be^' 

low  the  pine-ridge  ?" 

"  0|?'/es ;  the  same  that  winds  along  near  the 
foot  of  Bare-iiill,  where  the  water-cresses  grow  " 

.u     f '  T,^^'^  ^  S^*^^""^  *^«  milk-weed  the 
other  day." 

"  What  a   beautiful    pasture-field   that  will 
make,  when  it  is  cleared  I"  said  Hector,  thought- 

"  Hector  is  always  planning  about  fields,  and 
clearing  great   farms,"    said  Louis,   laughing. 

days ;  I  think  he  has  in  his  own  mind  brushed 
and  burned,  and  logged  up  all  the  fine  flats  and 
table-land  on  the   plains  before  now,  ay,  and  ^ 
cropped  It  all  with  wheat,  and  peas,  a;id  Indian 

"  We  will  have  a  clearing  and  a  nice  field  of 


y 


*  A  lovely  valley  to  the  east  of  Mount  Ararat,  , 
ing  to  ajvorthy  and  industrious  familv  of  th«  ..L 
*w.sn  u..^r  oo^d  sae  it  aa  it  now  iB,'-* cuItiv-^^eTfenilTf;;^-  \ 


,  now  belong- 1 


il  ■■i 


% 


IJ I 


2S0 


THE   CANADIAN  CRUSOES. 


corn  next  year,  if  vre  live,"  replied  Hector; 
"  that  corn  that  we  found  in  the  canoe  will  be  a 
treasure." 

"  Yes,  and  the  corn-cob  you  gci  on  Bare-hill," 
said  Catharine.  "  How  lucky  we  have  been ! 
We  shall  be  so  happy  when  we  see  our  little 
field  of  corn  flourishing  round  the  shanty  1  It 
was  a  good  thing,  Hec,  that  you  went  to  the 
Indian  camp  that  day,  though  both  Louis  and  I 
were  very  miserable  while  you  were  absent ;  but 
yon  see  God  must  have  directed  you,  that  the 
life  of  this  poor  girl  might  be  saved,  to  be  a 
comfort  to  us.  Every  thing  has  prospered  well 
with  us  since  she  came  to  us.  Perhaps  it  is 
because  we  try  to  make  a  Christian  of  her,  and 
so  God  blesses  all  our  endeavours." 

"  We  are  told,"  said  Hector,  "  that  there  is 
joy  with  the  angels  of  God  over  one  sinner  that 
repenteth ;  doubtless  it  is  a  joyful  thing  when 
the  heathen  that  knew  not  the  name  of  God 
'are  taught  to  glorify  his  holy  name." 

Indiana,  while  exploring,  had  captured  a  por- 
cupine ;  she  declared  that  she  should  have  plenty 
of  quills  for  edging  baskets  and  mocassins; 
besides,  she  said,  the  meat  was  white  and  good 
to  eat.  Hector  looked  with  a  suspicious  eye 
upon  the  little  animal,  doubting  the  propriety 
of  eating  its  flesh,  though  he  had  learned  to  eat 

jnUSK-'TatS.    n.nri   nnna\Aav  fT-ionn   nnnA   maof     Vtolr'/ul 

•^^ ;    — — —    —•^•^—~~^,,     _...^j.,,   ^.^.._..^    Jii-^'iSlfj     s."«a,w%6 


THE   CANADIAN  CRUSOKS. 


281 


in  Louis's  Indian  oven,  or  roasted  on  a  forked 
stick,  before  the  fire.     The  Indian  porcupine  is 
a  small  animal,  not  a  very  great  deal  larger  than 
the  common  British  hedgehog ;  the  quills,  how- 
ever,  are  longer  and  stronger,  and  varied  with' 
alternate   clouded    marks   of   pure  white   and 
dark  brownish  grey  ;  they  are  minutely  barbed, 
so  that  if  one  enters  the  flesh  it  is  with  difficulty 
extracted,  but  will  work  through  of  itself  in  an 
opposite  direction,  and  can  then  be  easily  pulled 
out.    Dogs  and  cattle  often  suffer  great  incon- 
venience from  getting  their  muzzles  filled  with 
the  quills  of  the  porcupine,  the  former  when 
worrying  the  poor  little  animal,  and  the  latter 
by  accidentally  meeting  a  dead  one  among  the 
herbage;    great   inflammation  will    sometimes 
attend  the  extraction.     Indians  often  lose  val- 
uable hounds  from  this  cause.     Beside  porcu- 
pines,  Indiana  told  her  companions,  there  were 
some  fine  butter-nut  trees  on  the  island,  and 
they  could  collect  a  bag  full  in  a  very  short 
time.     This  was  good  news,  for  the  butter-nut  is 
sweet  and  pleasant,  almost  equal  to  the  walnut, 
of  which  it  is  a  species. 

The  day  was  passed  pleasantly  enough  in  col- 
lecting  nuts  and  grapes ;  but  as  this  island  did 
not  afford  any  good  cleared  spot  for  passing  the 
night,  and,  moreover,  was  tenanted  by  black 
J  .„^ .  .^.  „i  „4  ^  ^.y^j  uxMiii  ineiT  appearaiiutf 


232 


THE  CANADIAN   CRUSOKS. 


among  the  stones  near  the* edge  of  the  water, 
they  agreed  by  common  council  to  go  to  Long 
Island,  where   Indiana  said  there  was  an  old 
log-house,  the  walls  of  which  were  still  stand- 
ing, and  where  there  was  dry  moss  in  plenty, 
which  would  make  them  a  comfortable  bed  for 
the  night.     This  old   log-house   she  said  had 
been  built,  she   heard  the   Indians  say,   by  a 
French  Canadian  trapper,  who  used  to  visit  the 
lake  some  years  ago ;  he  was  on  friendly  terms 
with  the  chiefs,  who  allowed  him  many  privi- 
leges, and  he  bought  their  furs,  and  took  them 
down  the  lake,  through  the  river  Trent,  to  some 
station-house  on  the  great  lake.     They  found 
they  should  have  time  enough  to  land  and  de- 
posit their  nuts  and  grapes  and  paddle  to  Long 
Island  before  sunset.     Upon  the  western  part 
of  this  fine  island  they  had  several  times  landed 
and  passed  some  lours,  exploring  its  shores; 
but  Indiana  told  them,  to  reach  the  old  log-house 
they  must  enter  the  low  swampy  bay  to  the  east, 
at  an  opening  which  she  ca'ied  Indian  Cove. 
To  do  this  required  some  skill  in  the  manage- 
ment of  the  canoe,  which  was  rather  over-loaded 
for  so  light  a  vessel ;  and  the  trees  grew  so  close 
and  thick  that  they  had  some  difficiiU;y  in  push- 
ing their  way  through  them  without  injuring 
its  frail   sides.     These    trees    or  bushes   were 
cbieuy  black  elder,  high-bush  cranDerneo,  aog- 


ill 


k 


THE  CANADIAN   CRUSOES. 


233 


wood,  willows,  and,  as  they  proceeded  further, 
and  there  was  ground  of  a  more  solid  nature, 
cedar,  poplar,  swamp  oak,  and  soft  maple,  with 
silver  birch  and  wild  cnerries.  Long  strings  of 
silvery-grey  tree-moss  hung  dangling  over  dieir 
heads,  the  bark  and  roots  of  the  birch  and 
cedars  were  covered  with  a  luxuriant  growth  of 
green  moss,  but  there  was  a  dampness  an  J  close- 
ness in  this  place  that  made  it  for  from  whole- 
some,  and  the  little  band  of  voyagers  were  not 
very  sorry  when  the  water  became  too  shallow 
to  admit  of  the  canoe  making  its  way  through 
the  swampy  channel,  and  they  landed  on  the 
banks  of  a  small  circular  pond,  as  round  as  a 
ring,  and  nearly  surrounded  by  tall  trees,  hoary 
with  moss  and  lichens  -e  water-lilies  floated 

on  the  surface  of  ....  miniature  lake,  and  the 
brilliant  red  berries  of  the  high-bush  cranberry 
and  the  purple  clusters  of  grapes  festooned  the 
trees. 

"A  famous  breeding-place  this  must  be  for 
ducks,"  observed  Louis. 

"  Aiid  for  flowers,"  said  Catharine,  "  and  for 
grapes  and  cranberries.  There  is  always  some 
beauty  or  some  usefulness  to  be  found,  however 
lonely  the  spot." 

"  A  fine  place  for  musk-rats,  and  minks,  and 
fishes,"  said  Hector,  looking  round.  "  The  old 
traiiper  knew  what  he  was  about  when  he  made 

20* 


■  ..a.,^..^..!,...-^.^^ 


I  ^ 


f  ill  'i 


284 


THE   CANADIAN  CRU30ES. 


his  lodge  near   this  pond.     And   there,  8ure 
enough,  is  the  log-hut,  and  not  so  bad  a  one 
either ;"  and  scrambling  up  the  bank  he  entered 
the  deserted  little  tenement,  well  pleased  to  find 
it  in  tolerable  repair.     There  were  the  ashes  on 
the  stone-hearth,  just  as  it  had  been  left  years 
back  by  the  old  trapper  ;   some  rough-hewu 
shelves ;  a  rude  bedstead  of  cedar-poles  still  oc- 
cupied a  corner  of  the  little  dwelling ;   heaps 
of  old  dry  moss  and  grass  lay  upon  the  ground ; 
and  the  little  squaw  pointed  with  one  of  her 
silent  laughs  to  a  collection  of  broken  egg- 
shells, where   some  wild   duck   had   sat   and 
hatched  her  downy  brood  among  the  soft  mate- 
rials which  she  had  found  and  appropriated  to 
her  own  purpose.     The  only  things  pertaining 
to  the  former  possessor  of  the  log-hut  were  an 
old,  rusty,  battered  tin   pannikin,  now,  alas! 
unfit  for  holding  water  ;   a  bit  of  a  broken 
earthen  whisky  jar ;  a  rusty  nail,  which  Louia 
pounced  upon,  and  pocketed,  or  rather  pouched, 
— for  he  had  substituted  a  fine  pouch  of  deer- 
skin for  his  worn-out  pocket;   and  a  fishing- 
line  of  good  stout  cord,  which  was  wound  on  a 
splinter  of  red  cedar,  and  carefully  stuck  between 
one  of  the  rafters  and  the  roof  of  the  shanty. 
A  rusty  but  efficient  hook  was  attached  to  the 
line,  and  Louis,  who  was  the  finder,  was  quite 
overjoyed  at  his  good  fortune  in  making  so 


THE   CANADIAN  CRUSOES. 


285 


valuable  an  addition  to  his  fishing-tackle.  Hec- 
tor got  only  an  odd  worn-out  mocassin,  which 
he  chucked  into  the  little  pond  in  disdain; 
while  Catharine  declared  she  would  keep  the 
old  tin  pot  as  a  relic,  and  carefully  deposited  it 
in  the  canoe. 

As  they  made  their  way  into  the  interior  of 
the  island,  they  found  that  there  were  a  great 
many  fine  sugar  maples  which  had  been  tapped 
by  some  one,  as  the  boys  thought,  by  the  old 
trapper;  but  Indiana,  on  examining  the  inci- 
sions in  the  trees,  and  the  remnants  of  birch- 
bark  vessels  that  lay  mouldering  on  the  earth 
below  them,  declared  them  to  have  been  the 
work  of  her  own  people ;  and  long  and  sadly 
did  the  young  girl  look  upon  these  simple 
memorials  of  a  race  of  whom  she  was  the  last 
living  remnant.     The  young  girl  stood  there  in 
melancholy  mood,  a  solitary,  isolated    being, 
with  no  kindred  tie  upon  the  earth  to  make 
life  dear  to  her;  a  stranger  in  the  land  of  her 
fathers,  associating  with  those  whose  ways  were 
not  her  ways,  nor  their  thoughts  her  thoughts ; 
whose  language  was  scarcely  known   to  her' 
whose  God  was  not  the  God  of  her  fathers! 
Yet  the  dark  eyes  of  the  Indian  girl  were  not 
dimmed  with  tears  as  she  thought  of  these 
things ;  she  had  learned  of  her  people  to  suffer, 
and  be  still. 


236 


THE  CANADIAN   CBUSOES. 


Silent  and  patient  she  stood,  with  her  melan- 
choly gaze  bent  on  the  earth,  when  she  felt  the 
gentle  hand  of  Catharine  laid  upon  her  arm, 
and  then  kindly  and  loviugly  passed  round  her 
neck,  as  she  whispered, — 

"Indiana,  I  will  be  to  you  as  a  sister,  and 
will  love  you  and  cherish  you,  because  you  are 
an  orphan  girl,  and  alone  in  the  world ;  but 
God  loves  you,  and  will  make  you  happy.  He 
is  a  Father  to  the  fatherless,  and  the  Friend  of 
the  destitute,  and  to  them  that  have  no  helper." 

The  words  of  kindness  and  love  need  no  in- 
terpretation ;  no  book-learning  is  necessary  to 
make  them  understood.  The  young,  the  old, 
the  deaf,  the  dumb,  the  blind,  can  read  this  uni- 
versal language ;  its  very  silence  is  often  more 
eloquent  than  words — the  gentle  pressure  of  the 
hand,  the  half-echoed  sigh,  the  look  of  sympathy 
will  penetrate  to  the  very  heart,  and  unlock  its 
hidden  stores  of  human  tenderness  and  love. 
The  rock  is  smitten,  and  the  waters  gush  forth, 
a  bright  and  living  stream,  to  refresh  and  fer- 
tilize the  thirsty  soul. 

The  heart  of  the  poor  mourner  was  touched : 
she  bowed  down  her  head  upon  the  hand  that 
held  her  so  kindly  in  its  sisterly  grasp,  and  wept 
Boft  sweet  human  tears  full  of  grateful  love, 
while  she  whispered,  in  her  own  low  plaintive 
voice,   "  My  white  sister,  I  kiss  you  in  my 


I     I 


THE   CANADIAN   CBUSOES. 


237 


heart ;  I  will  love  the  God  of  my  white  bro- 
thers, and  be  his  child." 

The  two  friends  now  busied  themselves  in 
preparing  the  evening  meal :  they  found  Louis 
and  Hector  had  lighted  up  a  charming  blaze  on 
the  desolate  hearth.  A  few  branches  of  cedar 
twisted  together  by  Catharine,  made  a  service- 
able broom,  with  which  she  swept  the  floor, 
giving  to  the  deserted  dwelling  a  neat  and  com- 
fortable asi^-ct ;  some  big  stones  were  quickly 
rolled  i.nd  made  to  answer  for  seats  in  the 
chim  ;  v^orner.  The  new-found  fishing-line 
was  soon  put  into  requisition  by  Louis,  and 
with  very  little  delay,  a  fine  dish  of  black  bass, 
broiled  on  the  coals,  was  added  to  their  store 
of  dried  venison  and  roasted  bread-roots,  which 
they  found  in  abundance  on  a  low  spot  on  the 
island.  Grapes  and  butternuts,  which  Hector 
cracked  with  stones  by  waj'  of  nut-crackers, 
finished  their  sylvan  meal.  The  boys  stretched 
themselves  to  sleep  on  the  ground,  with  their 
feet,  Indian  fashion,  to  the  fire ;  while  the  two 
girls  occupied  the  mossy  couch  which  they  had 
newly  spread  with  fragrant  cedar  and  hemlock 
boughs. 

The  next  island  that  claimed  their  attention 
was  Sugar-Maple  Island,*  a  fine,  thickly-wooded 

*  Sugar  Island,  a  oharmiiiff  object  from  the  pioturQ%ons 
eottage  of  Alfred  Hay  ward,  Esq. 


U~ 


238 


THE  CANADIAN   CRUSOES. 


Ii    tl 


island,  rising  with  steep  rocky  banks  from  the' 
water.     A   beautiful  object,    but  too  densely 
wooded  to  admit  of  our  party  penetrating  be- 
yond a  few  yards  of  its  shores. 

The  next  island  they  named  the  Beaver,* 
from  its  resemblance  in  shape  to  that  animal. 
>^  A  fine,  high,  oval  island  beyond  this  they  named 
Black  Island,t  from  its  dark  evergreens  ;   the 
next  was  that  which  seemed  most  to  excite  the 
interest  of  their  Indian  guide,  although  but  a 
small  stony  island,  scantily  clothed  with  trees, 
lower  down  the  lake.     This  place  she  called 
Spooke  Island,:}:  which  means  in   the   Indian 
tongue,  a  place  for  the  dead ;  it  is  sometimes 
called  Spirit  Island,  and  here,  in  times  past, 
used  the  Indian  people  to  bury  their  dead.    The 
island  is  now  often  the  resort  of  parties  of  plea- 

*  The  Beaver,  commonly  called  Sheep  I*l«nd,  from  some 
person  having  pastured  a  few  sheep  upon  it  some  few  years  ago. 
I  I^have  taken  the  liberty  of  preserving  the  name,  to  which  it 
I  bears  aTi  obvious  resembhmoe ;  the  nose  of  the  Beaver  lies  to- 
I  wards  the  west,  the  tail  to  the  east.     This  island  is  nearly 
/  opposite  to  Gore's  Landing,  and  forms  a  pleasing  object  from 
the  windows  and  verandah  of  Clavertou,  the  house  of  my 
esteemed  friond,  William  Falkner,  Esq.,  the  Patriarch  of  the 
Plains,  as  ho  has  often  been  termed ;  one  of  the  only  resideuta 
on  the  Rice  Lake  plains  for  many  years ;  ouo  of  the  few  gentle- 
^  men  who  have  taste  enough  to  bo  charmed  with  this  lovely 
tract  of  country,  and  to  appieciate  its  agricultural  resources, 
I  which,  of  late,  have  been  so  fully  developed. 
I      t  Black  Island,  the  sixth  from  the  head  of  the  lake;  an  o?al 
llsUnd,  remarkable  for  its  evergreouB. 
O.     t  Appendix  H. 


1    ,i^t.    : 


m 


THE   CANADIAN  CRUSOES.  £39 

^e,  who,  from  its  being  grassy  and  open,  find 
It  more  available  than  those  which  are  densely 
wooded.  The  young  Mohawk  regarded  it  with 
feelings  of  superstitious  awe,  and  would   not 

stoTes  '  *°  ^^""^  *^'  '^''''^^  ^"  '^  "'^"^^ 

"It  is  a  place  of  spirits,"  she  said;  "the 
ghosts^  of  mj  fathers  will  be  angry  if  we  go 
tnere.  ii.ven  her  young  companions  felt  that 
they  were  upon  sacred  ground,  and  gazed  with 
silent  reverence  upon  the  burial  isle. 

Strongly  imbued  with  a  love  of  the  marvel- 
ous,  which  they  had  derived  from  their  High- 
land origin,  Indiana's  respect  for  the  spirits  of 
her  ancestors  was  regarded  as  most  natural,  and 
in  silence,  as  if  fearing  to  disturb  the  solemnity 
of  the  spot,  they  resumed  their  paddles,  and 
•  after  a  while  reached  the  mouth  of  the  river 
Otonabee,  which  was  divided  into  two  separate 
channels  by  a  long,  low  point  of  swampy  land 
covered  with  stunted,  mossy  bushes  and  trees, 
rushes,  dnft-wood,  and   aquatic  plants.     Indi- 
ana  told  them  this  river  flowed  from  the  north, 
and  that  it  was  many  days'  journey  up  to  the 
lakes ;  to  illustrate  its  course,  she  drew  with  her 
paddle  a  long  line   with  sundry  curves  and 
broader  spaces,  some  longer,  some  smaller,  with 
bays  and  inlets,  which  she  gave  them  to  under- 

stand   "oraa  «-U-^  »U>:«    -.P  1-1_         .1       .       , 

B-A_u  r,^  ,^.j  -^liaui  ui  iuii.es  mat  siie  spoke  ot; 


240 


THE   CANADIAN  CRUSOES. 


There  were  beautiful  hunting-grounJs  on  the 
borders  of  these  lakes,  and  many  fine  waterfalls 
and  rocky  islands;  she  had  been  taken  up  to 
these  waters  during  the  time  of  her  captivity. 
The  Ojebwas,  she  said,  were  a  branch  of  the 
great  Chippewa  nation,  who  owned  much  land 
and  great  waters  thereabouts. 

Compared  with  the  creeks  and  streams  that 
they  had  seen  hitherto,  the  Otonabee  appeared  a 
majestic  river,  and  an  object  of  great  admiration 
and  curiosity,  for  it  seemed  to  them  as  if  it  v/ere 
the  high  road  leading  up  to  an  unknown  far-off 
land — a  land  of  dark,  mysterious,  impenetrable 
forests, — flowing  on,  flowing  on,  in  lonely  ma- 
jesty, reflecting  on  its  tranquil  bosom  the  blue 
sky,  the  dark  pines,  and  grey  cedars, — the  pure 
ivory  water-lily,  and  every  passing  shadow  of 
bird  or  leaf  that  flitted  across  its  surface — so 
quiet  was  the  onward  flow  of  its  waters. 

A  few  brilhant  leaves  yet  lingered  on  the  soft 
maples  and  crimson-tinted  oaks,  but  the  glory 
of  the  forest  had  departed ;  the  silent  fall  of  many 
a  sear  and  yellow  leaf  told  of  the  death  of  sum- 
mer and  of  winter's  coming  reign.  Yet  the  air 
was  wrapt  in  a  deceitful  stillness ;  no  breath  of 
wind  moved  he  trees  or  dimpled  the  water. 
Bright  wreaths  of  scarlet  berries  and  wild  grapes 
hung  in  festoons  among  the  faded  foliage.  The 
silence  of  the  fore-st  was  unbroken,  save  hv  *'^'» 


THE  OAN-ADIAIir  CRUSOES. 


241 


quick  tapping  of  the  little  midland  woodpecker, 
or  the  shrill  scream  of  the  blue  jay ;  the  whirring 
sound  of  the  large  white  and  grey  duck,  (called 
by  the  frequenters  of  these  lonely  waters  the 
whistlewing,)  as  its  wings  swept  the  waters  in 
its  flight,  or  the  light  dripping  of  the  paddle, 
so  still,  so  quiet  was  the  scene. 

As  the  day  was  now  far  advanced,  the  Indian 
gu-1  advised  them  either  to  encamp  for  the  night 
on  the  river  bank,  or  to  use  all  speed  in  return- 
ing.   She  seemed  to  view  the  aspects  of  the  hea- 
vens with  some  anxiety.     Vast  volumes  of  light 
copper-tinted  clouds  were  rising,  the  sun  seen 
through  its  hazy  veil  looked  red  and  dim,  and  a 
hot  sultry  air  unrelieved  by  a  breath  of  refresh- 
ing  wind  oppressed  our  young  voyagers ;  and 
though  the  same  coppery  clouds  and  red  sun  had 
been  seen  for  several  successive  days,  a  sort  of 
instinctive  feeling  prompted  the  desire  in  all  to 
return;  and  after  a  few  minutes'  rest  and  re- 
freshment, they  turned  their  little  bark  towards 
the  lake ;  and  it  was  weil  that  they  did  so ;  by 
the  time  they  had  reached  the  middle  of  the  lake, 
the  stillness  of  the  air  was  rapidly  changing. 
The  rose-tinted  clouds  that  had  lain  30  long 
piled  upon  each  other  in  mountainous  ridges, 
began  to  move  upwards,  at  first  slowly,  then 
with  rapidly  accelerated  motion.     There  was  a 
moaning  in  the  p 


21 


tops,  and  by 


ma 


242 


THE   CANADIAN   CRUSOES. 


gusty  breeze  swept  the  surface  of  the  water, 
raising  it  into  rough,  short,  white-crested  ridges. 
These  signs  were  pointed  out  by  Indiana  as 
the  harbinger  of  a  rising  hurricane  :  and  now  a 
swift  spark  of  light  like  a  falling  star  glanced  on 
the  water,  as  if  there  to  quench  its  fiery  light. 
Again  the  Indian  girl  rawed  her  dark  hand  and 
pointed  to  the  rolling  storm-clouds,  to  the  crested 
waters,  and  the  moving  pine  tops ;  then  to  the 
head  of  the  Beaver  Island — it  was  the  one 
nearest  to  them.  With  an  arm  of  energy  she 
wielded  the  paddle,  with  an  eye  of  fire  she 
directed  the  course  of  their  little  vessel,  for  well 
she  knew  their  danger  and  the  need  for  strain- 
ing every  nerve  to  reach  the  nearest  point  of 
land.  Low  muttering  peals  of  thunder  were 
now  heard,  the  wind  was  rising  with  electric 
speed.  Away  flew  the  light  bark,  with  the 
swiftness  of  a  bird,  over  the  water ;  the  tempest 
was  above,  around,  and  beneath.  The  hollow 
crash  of  the  forest  trees  as  they  bowed  to  the 
earth  could  be  heard,  sullenly  sounding  from 
shore  to  shore.  And  now  the  Indian  girl,  fling- 
ing back  her  black  streaming  hair  from  her 
brow,  knelt  at  the  head  of  the  canoe,  and  with 
renewed  vigour  plied  the  paddle.  The  waters, 
lashed  into  a  state  of  turbulence  by  the  violence 
of  the  storm,  lifted  the  canoe  up  and  down,  but 
no  word  was  spoken — they  each  felt  the  great* 


THE  CANADIAN  CRUSOES.  248 

ness  of  the  peril,  but  thoy  also  knew  that  they 
were  :o  the  hands  of  Him  who  can  say  to  the 

^b7Hil^'  ''^^^''  "■^'''''  ^'  '^"^'"  ^^^  t^ey 

^Jand,  to  reach  the  mainland  was  impossible, 
for  the  ram  poured  down  a  blinding  deluge  •  it 
was  wuh  difficulty  the  little  craft  waf  kept  Soa^ 
by  baihng  out  the  water;  to  do  this,  Louis  was 
tain  0  use  his  cap,  and  Catharine  assisted  with 
the  old  tm  pot  which  she  had  fortunately  brought 
from  the  trapper's  shanty.  ^ 

r/^/T^"'*  ^"^  ^*  '^  ^^'S^^  ^i^en  they 
reached  the  nearest  point  of  the  Beaver,  and 
joyful  was  the  grating  sound  of  the  canoe  as  it 
was  vigorously  pushed  up  on  the  shingly  beach 
beneath  the  friendly  shelter  of  the  overhanging 
trees,  where,  perfectly  exhausted  by  the  exertion! 
they  had  made,  dripping  with  rain,  and  over- 
powered  by  the  terrors  of  the  storm,  they  threw 
hemselves  on  the  ground,  and  in  safety  watched 
Its  progress-thankful  for  an  escape  from  such 
imminent  peril. 

Thus  ended  the  Indian  summer-so  deceitful 
in  Its  calmness  and  its  beauty.  The  next  day 
saw  the  ground  white  with  snow,  and  hardened 
into  stone  by  a  premature  frost.  Our  poor 
voyagers  were  not  long  in  quitting  the  shelter  of 
^^"'  i-«"u,  iiuu  Detailing  them  once  more 


I 


244 


THE   CANADIAN   CRUSOES. 


to  their  ark  of  refuge — the  log-house  on  Mount 
Ararat. 

The  winter,  that  year,  set  in  with  unusual 
severity  some  weeks  sooner  than  usual,  so  that 
from  the  begining  of  November  to  the  middle 
of  April  the  snow  never  entirely  left  the  ground. 
The  lake  was  soon  covered  with  ice,  and  by  the 
month  of  December  it  was  one  compact  solid 
sheet  from  shore  to  shore. 


w 

.tMiij 


mw.\ 


IHK  CANADIAN  CRUSOES. 


245 


':l 


CHAPTER   X. 

"Snored  oy  the  rod  and  noiay  light."-Coi,EBiDO«. 

JTECTOR  and  Louis  had  now  little  employ, 
ment,  excepting  chopping  fire-wood,  which 
was  no  very  arduous  task  for  two  stout  healthy 
lads,  used  from  childhood  to  handling  the  axe. 
Trapping,  and  hunting,  and  snaring  hares,  wefe 
occupations  which  they  pursued  more  for  the  ex- 
citement  and  exercise   than   from   hunger,  as 
they  had  laid  by  abundence  of  dried  venison 
fish,  and  birds,  besides  a  plentiful  store  of  rice! 
They  now  visited  those  trees  that  they  had 
marked  in  the  summer,  where  they  had  noticed 
the  bees  hiving,  and  cut  them  down ;  in  one  they 
got  more  than  a  pailful  of  rich  honey-comb,  and 
others  yielded  some  more,  some  less ;  this  afforded 
them  a  delicious  addition  to  their  boiled  rice,  and 
dried  acid  fruits.    They  might  have  melted  the 
vrax,  and  burned  candles  of  it;  but  this  was  a 
'efinement  of  luxury  that  never  once  occurred  to 
our  young  housekeepers :  the  dry  pine  knots  that 
are  found  m  the  woods  are  the  settlers'  candles ; 
but  Catharine  made  some  very  good  vinegar 
fv'ith  the  refuse  of  the  honey  anci  combs,  "by 


Iglggll, 


246 


THE  CANADIAN   CRUSOKS. 


■I  n 


I  I,  h 


pouring  water  on  it,  and  leaving  it  to  ferment 
in  a  warm  aook  of  the  chimney,  in  one  of  the 
birch-bark  vessels,  and  this  was  an   excellent 
substitute  for  salt  as  a  seasoning  to  the  fresh 
meat  and  fish.     Like  the  Indians,  they  were  now 
reconciled  to  the  want  of  this  seasonable  article. 
Indiana  seemed  to  enjoy  the  cold  weather ; 
the  lake,  though  locked  up  to  every  one  else, 
was  open  to  her ;  with  the  aid  of  the  t<  mahawk 
she  patiently  made  an  opening  in  the  ice,  and 
over  this  she  built  a  little  shelter  of  pine  boughs 
Btuck  into  the  ice.     Armed  with  a  sharp  spear 
carved  out  of  hardened  wood,  she  would  lie  upon 
the  ice  and  patiently  await  the  rising  of  some 
large  fish  to  the   air-hole,  when   dexterously 
plunging  it  into  the  unwary  creature,  she  dragged 
it  to  the  surface.    Many  a  noble  fish  did  the 
young  squaw  bring  home,  and  cast  at  the  feet 
of  him  whom  she  had  tacitly  elected  aa  her  lord 
and  master;  to  him  she  offered  the  voluataiy 
service   of  a  faithful  and   devoted   servant—I 
might  almost  have  said,  slave. 

During  the  middle  of  December  there  were 
some  days  of  such  intense  cold,  that  even  our 
young  Crusoes,  hardy  as  they  were,  preferred 
the  blazing  log-fire  and  warm  ingle  nook,  to  the 
frozen  lake  and  cutting  north-west  wind  which 
blew  the  loose  snow  in  blinding  drifts  over  its 
bleak,  unsheltered  surface.    Clad  in  the  warm 


"^^n 


THE  CANADIAN   CRUSOKS. 


24? 


tunic  and  petticoat  of  Indian  blanket  with  fur- 

lined  mocassins,  Catliarine  and  her  Indian  friend 

felt  little  cold  excepting  to  the  face  when  they 

went  abroad,  unless  the  wind  was  high,  and  then 

experience  taught  them  to  keep  at  home.     And 

these  cold  gloomy  days  they  employed  in  many 

useful  works.     Indiana  liad  .  ucceeded  in  dyeing 

the  quills  ofthe  porci^  )ino  tha*  she  had  captured 

on  Grape  Island;  witi  i  sese  i^j.Q  worked  a  pair 

of  beautiful  mocassins   .  d   i.a  arrow  case  for 

Hector,    besides   making  a  sheath  for  liouis's 

couteau-du-chasse,   of  which   the  young   hunter 

was  very  proud,  bestowing  great  praise  on  the 

workmanship. 

Indiana  appeared  to  be  deeply  engrossed  with 
some  work  that  she  was  engaged  in,  but  pre- 
served a  provoking  degree  of  mystery  about  it, 
to  the  no  small  annoyance  of  Louis,  who,  among 
his  other  traits  of  character,  was  remarkably  in- 
quisitive, wanting  to  know  the  why  and  where- 
fore  of  every  thing  he  saw. 

Indiana  first  prepared  a  frame  of  some  ugh 
wood,  it  might  be  the  inner  bark  of  the  oak  or 
elm  or  hickory  ;  this  was  pointed  at  either  end, 
and  wide  in  the  middle— not  very  much  unlike 
the  form  of  some  broad,  flat  fish;  over  this  she 
wove  an  open  network  ofnarrow  thongs  of  deer- 
hide,  wetted  to  make  it  more  pliable,  and  se- 
curciy   rastened   to  the  frame;    when   dry,   it 


\ 


iiaiMMMiliWatti 


248 


THE   CAXADIAX   CRUSOES. 


•1 

«4v  j 


became  quite  tight,  and  resembled  a  sort  of 
coarse  bamboo-work  such  as  jou  see  on  cane- 
bottomed  chairs  and  sofas. 

"And  now,  Indiana,  tell  us  what  sort  of  fish 
you  are  going  to  catch  in  your  ingenious  little 
net,"  said  Louis,  who  had  watched  her  pro- 
ceedings  with  great  interest.  The  girl  shook 
her  head,  and  laughed  till  she  showed  all  her 
white  teeth,  but  quietly  proceeded  to  commence 
a  second  frame  like  the  first. 

Louis  put  it  on  his  head.  No :  it  could  not 
be  meant  to  be  worn  there,  that  was  plain.  He 
turned  it  round  and  round.  It  must  be  intended 
for  some  kind  of  bird-trap ;  yes,  that  must  be 
it ;  and  he  cast  an  inquiring  glance  at  Indiana. 
She  blushed,  -hook  her  head,  and  gave  another 
of  her  silent  laughs. 

"Some  game  like  battledore  and  shuttle- 
cock,"—and  snatching  up  a  light  bass-wood  chip, 
he  began  tossing  the  chip  up  and  catching  it  on 
the  netted  frame.  The  little  squaw  was  highly 
amused,  but  rapidly  went  on  with  her  work. 
Louis  was  now  almost  angry  at  the  perverse 
little  savage  persevering  in  keeping  him  in 
suspense.  She  v  )uld  not  tell  him  till  the  other 
was  done ;  then  there  were  to  be  a  pair  of  these 
curious  articles:  and  he  was  forced  at  last,  to 
sit  qr^^tly  down  to  watch  the  proceeding  of  the 
work.     It  was  niarht  before  th«  two  warA  nnrn 


I 


THE   CANADIAN  CRUSOES. 


249 


pleted,  and  furnished  with  straps  and  loops. 
When  the  last  stroke  was  put  to  them,  the 
Indian  girl  knelt  down  at  Hector's  feet,  and 
binding  them  on,  pointed  to  them  with  a  jovous 
laugh,  and  said,  "  Snow-shoe— for  walk  on  snow 
—good!"  ^^. 

The  boys  had  heard  of  snow-shoes,  but  had 
never  seen  them,  and  now  seemed  to  understand 
little  of  the  benefit  to  be  derived  from  tne  us© 
of  them.     The  young  Mohawk  quickly  trans- 
ferred the  snow-shoes  to  her  own  feet,  and  soon 
proved  to  them  that  the  broad  surface  prevented 
those  who  wore  them  from  sinking  into  the  deep 
snow.     After  many  trials  Hector  began  to  ac- 
knowledge the  advantage  of  walking  with  tho 
snow-shoes,  especially  on  the  frozen  snow  on 
the  ice-covered  lake.     Indiana  was  well  pleased 
with  the  approbation  chat  her  manufactures  met 
with,  and  very  soon  manufactured  for  "  Nee- 
chee,"  as  they  all  now  called  Louis,  a  similar 
present.     As  to  Catharine,  she   declared  the 
snow-shoes  made  her  ankles  ache,  and  that  she 
preferred  the  mocassins  that  her  cousin  Louis 
made  for  her. 

During  the  long  bright  days  of  February 
they  made  several  excursions  on  the  lake,  and 
likewise  explored  some  of  the  high  hills  to  the 
eastward.  On  this  ridoffi  thprA  wpro  fa^xr  u^n,/, 
trees;  but  it  was  thickly  clothed  with  scrub 


ri 


i 


260 


THE   CANAlylAN  CRUSOES. 


m 


1 


oaks,  slender  poplars,  and  here  and  there  fine 
jpinea,  and   picturesque   free-growing  oaks  of 
Lconsiderable  size  and  great  age— patriarchs,  they 
V,Tiight  be  termed,  among  the  forest   growth.* 
Over  this  romantic  range  of  hill  and  dale,  free 
(  as  the  air  they  breathed,  roamed  many  a  gallant 
^  herd  of  deer,  unmolested  unless  during  certain 
^  seasons  when  the  Indians  came  to  hunt  over 
^  tb-se  hills.     Surprised  at  the  different  growth 
of  the  oaks  on  this  side  the  plains,  Feetor  could 
not  help  expressing  his  astonishment  to  Indiana, 
who  told  him  that  it  was  caused  by  the  custom 
that  her  people  had  had  from  time  immemorial 
of  setting  fire  to  the  bushes  in  the  early  part  of 
spring.     This  practice,  she  said,  promoted  the 
growth  of  the  deer-grass,  made  good  cover  fop 
the  deer  themselves,  and  effectually  prevented 
the  increase  of  the  large  timbers.     This  circum- 
stance gives  a  singular  aspect  to  this  high  ridge 
of  hills  when  contrasted  with  the  more  wooded 
portions  to  the  westward.     From  the  lake  these 
eastern  hills  look  verdant,  and  as  if  covered  with 
tall  green  fern.    In  the  month  of  October  a  rich 
rosy  tint  is  cast  upon  the  leaves  of  the  scrub 
oaks  by  the  uutumnal  frosts,  and  they  present  a 
glowing  unva,ried  crimson  of  the  most  glorious 

*  One  of  these  hcary  monarchs  of  the  Oak-hills  still  «tanda 
at  the  head  of  the  lawn  at  Oaklands,  formerly  the  property  of 

Sir.  W,  F-iIlrnAr    nO"'  ♦»">  r— :J ^  »■  •  r      r       J  «• 


'  I '-^^ 


THE   CANADIAN    CRUSOKS. 


aai 


hue,  oaij  variegated  in  spots  by  a  da-k  featbery 
evergreen,  or  a  patch  of  light  v/aving  poplars 
turnec  by  the  same  wizard's  wand  to  golden 
yellow. 

There  were  many  lovely  sp  s,~lofty  rounded 
hills,  and  deep  shady  dells,  with  extended  table- 
land  and  iine  lake  views;  but  on  the  whole 
our  young  folks  preferred  the  oak  openings  and 
the  beautiful  wooded  glens  of  the  western  side, 
where  they  had  fixed  their  houie. 

There  was  one  amusement   that  they  used 
greatly  to  enjoy  during  the  cold  bright  days  and 
moonlight  nights  of  midwinter.     This  was  gli- 
ding  down  the  frozen  snow  on  the  steep  side  of 
the  dell  near  the  spring,  seated  on  small  hand- 
sleighs,  which  carried  th«-m  down  with  great 
velocity.     Wrapped  in  their  warm  furs,  with 
caps  fastened  closely  over  their  ears,  what  cared 
they  for  the  cold  ?     Warm  and  glowing  from 
head  to  foot,  with   cheeks  brightened  by  the 
delightful  exercise,  they  would  remain  for  h©ura 
enjoying  the  amusement  of  the  snov^ -slide;  the 
bright  frost  gemming  the  ground  with  myriads 
of  diamonds,  sparkling  in  their  hair,  or  whitening 
it  till  it  rivalled  the  snow  beneath  their  feet. 
Then,  when  tired  out  with  the  exercise,  they 
returned  to  the  shanty,  stirred  up  a  blazing  fire, 
till  the  smoked  rafters  glowed  in  the  red  light  • 
spread  their  simple  fare  of  stewed  rice  sweet 


262  THK   CANADIAN   CRL'SOES. 

ened  with  honey,  or  maybe  a  savoury  soup  of 

and  fed,  they  tneeled  together,  side  by  side,  and 
offered  up  a  prayer  of  gratitude  to  their  M^ker 
and  besought  h.s  care  over  them  during  the 
dark  and  silent  hours  of  night. 

haK^f  *r^  ^°""^  P'°P'^  ^^"^  'die  in  their 
habits  and  desponding  in  their  tempers,  they 
must  have  perished  with  cold  and  hunger,  in 
stead  of  enjoying  many  necessaries  and  even 
»me  httle  luxuries  in  their  lonely  forest  home 
Fortunately  they  had  been  brought  up  in  The 
early  practice  of  every  sort  of'sefuhiis,  to 
endure  every  privation  with  cheerfnl  fortitjde- 
noti  indeed,  qmotly  to  sit  down  and  wait  fo^ 
be    r  times,   but  vigorously  to  create  those 
better  times,  by  every  possible  exertion  that 

To  be  up  and  doing,  is  the  maxim  of  a 
Canadian;  and  it  is  this  that" nerves  his  arm  t, 
do  and  bear.    The  Canadian  settler,  follol, 

ne^v  ■"' '1"™°'^  "y  ^  -^--  of  his  own 
energy.     He  brings  up  his  family  to  rely  upon 

The  children  oi  the  modem  emigrant,  though 
enjoying  a  higher  degree  of  dvl»l:  !S 


THE   CANADIAN   CRUSOES. 


253 


intelligence,  arising  from  a  liberal  education, 
might  not  have  fared  so  well  under  similar  cir- 
cumstances  as  did  our  Canadian  Crusoes,  be- 
cause,  unused  to  battle  with  the  hardships  inci- 
dental  to  a  life  of  such  privation  as  they  had 
known,  they  could  not  have  brought  so  much 
experience,  or  courage,  or  ingenuity  to  their  aid. 
It  requires  courage  to  yield  to  circumstances,  as 
well  as  to  overcome  them. 

Many  little  useful  additions  to  the  interior  of 
their  dwelling  were  made  by  Hector  and  Louis 
during  the  long  winter.     They  made  a  smoother 
and  better  table  than  the  Urst  rough  one  that 
they  put  toc'ether.     They  also  made  a  rough 
partition  of  split  cedars,  to  form  a  distinct  and 
separate  sleeping-room  for  the  two  girls  ;  but  aa 
this  division  greatly  circumscribed  their  sitting 
and  cooking  apartment,  they  resolved,  as  soon 
as  the  spring  came,  to  cut  and  draw  in  logs  for 
putting  up  a  better  and  larger  room  to  be°used 
as  a  summer  parlour.     Indiana  and  Louis  made 
a  complete  set  of  wooden  trenchers  out  of  but- 
ter-nut, a  fine  hard  wood  of  excellent  grain,  and 
less  liable  to  warp  or  crack  than  many  others. 

Louis's  skill  as  a  carpenter  was  much  greater 
than  that  of  his  cousin.  He  not  only  posses-pd 
more  judgment  and  was  more  handy,  but  he  .  ..d 
a  certain  taste  and  neatness  in  finishing  his 
^ork,  however  rough  his  materials  and  rude  his 

22 


254 


THE  CANADIAN   CRUSOES. 


r 


-»-kei  With  hiSat^r„,:r£;  - 

carve  a  Plum.atono.,.toa  mml.r.are  bastt  wih 
handle  across  it,  a!!  ,]elicat<.i,.  „  T'  ^ 
flower  and  cbcl^ke  Jo  r  TLnf,";'  J"" 
butter.,u,t  would  be  transformed  iM'    "     * 

:  t  «>™*;  -^  -at,  andTX  t,;:^: 

r.nf  ■  ,(.   r        ,  "arK.     Oombs  he  conlrl 

cnUu  o   v.,od  or  bone,  so  that  Catharine  Id 
.-4    V"-  *"  """^"^  "  "'  bmids  or  band, 

could  T  «„  '"^  '^^*^'  P'^'d  ''b'"'  ha 
could  m  any  way  contribute  to  bis  cou -in', 
happmes,.  These  little  arta  Uuis  Ld 
taught  by  his  father.  Indeed  thTlt  f  *" 
that  their  little  .ettJent  tL  CLtl"" 
or  village  had  necessarily  Wd  their  /  7° 

ror  iiector  and  Louis,  who  were  always  on  th 
alert  to  render  the  strangers  any  service  in  thet 
power,  as  by  that  means  they  sometimrrl.       1 

■rappers.    And  then  there  were  wonderful  t, '. . 
of  n^rvellous  feat,  and  hairbreadth^^   " 


THE  CANADIAN  CBC30E9.  256 

listen  to,  ^  they  sat  with  eager  looks  and  open 
house.    Now  they  would  in  their  turns  haTe 

had'benf  "V'"""^  ^'^^^'""-'  -<i  a'l  thi 
had  befallen  them  since  the  Hrst  day  of  their 

wanderings  on  the  Rice  Lake  Plains. 

Thelongwinterpassedawayunmarkedbyanv 
very   t,r„„g  event.     The  Indians  had  revfsited 
the  hunt,ng.grounds;  but  they  confined  tb  m 
Sin       "^I  u    ""^  ^"'^™  ''^'  »f  «=e  pla  ns, 

!nd  n  .t        '"fS  '"  "'°'«^'  "^e^-    The  latter 
end  of  the  month  of  Mai^h  presented  fine  sugar- 
making  weather ;  and  as  they  had  ',be  use  of  the 
^g  .ron  pot,  they  resolved  to  make  maple  sugar  I 
«d  some  molasses.    Long  Island  was  decided 
upon  aa  the  mc«t  eligible  place:  ithrdtld    ■ 
vantage  over  Maple  Island  of  having  a  shcnty 
ready  built  for  a  shelter  during  the^time  they 
might  see  fit  to  remain,  and  a  good  boilinu^ 
place,  which  would  be  a  comfort^to  the  grif 
^  they  need  not  be  exposed  to  the  weather 
during  the  process  of  sugaring.    The  two  boy, 

which  they  hewed  out  into  sugar-troughs  •  In 

dmna  manufactured  some  rough  pails  of  birch- 

bark,  and  the  first  favourable  day  for  the  work 

hey  loaded  up  »  aand-sleigh  with  their  vessel^ 

..    -„..-.. _.^  ,^.,.,„  o^gj,  ^.^^  ^^^  ^  ^^^  ^j^^^  ^^^ 


I 


ip' 


258  THE    CANADIAN   CBUSOES. 

tapped  the  trees  they  thought  could  yield  sip 

ihey  did  not  leave  the  sugar-bush  for  good  till 

the  tt  *""."'"^  '°  ""'"*  *^  »P""g^  *at  fed 

hat  ft    ' '  u  '"  •■'"!  "P""  '''  ^"'^""«'  '""Sht  them 
that  t  would  not  long  be  p-udent  to  remain  on 
the  ,sla„d.     The  loud  booming  rounds  that  were 
nowfrequently  ueardof  the  penmn  air  beneath 
«tr:v,ng  to  break  forth  from  its  io/pr  L„  ^e  , 
warnings  not  to  be  neglected.     Openings  Can 
to  appear,  especially  at  the  entrance  of  the  river 
and  between  the  islands,  and  opposite  to  some 
the  „»   T  Tf' ''  '^'"^  '''""^  'hat  attracted 
gmded  by  that  instinct  that  never  errs,  from 
tZ  '^'^'"^t"^  '°  tte  far-off  lands,  and 
Indiana  knew  the  signs  of  the  wild  birds  coming 
and  going  with  a  certainty  that  seemed  almosf 

r'd'r't  '/^  ^''"P'''--°'ied  companions 

How  delightful  were  the  first  indiLons  of 

the  coming  spring!     How  joyously  our  young 

Crosoes   heard   the  first  tapping  of  the  Td 

headed  woodpker,  the  lol^l.,,   .tb^ 

WV-     1   .'  T'^-^'"'^-  "'  *"'  -"^at  quakerly! 

If  a  X  d.'  *'"  T"'  *"  "^"'^  "^  -"^  'he  net 
ot  sunny  days  and  green  buds,  the  low,  tender. 


THE   CANAblAN  CRUSOES.  267 

»^hispering  note  of  the  chickadee,  flitting  amon^ 
the  pines  or  in  the  thick  branches  of  the  shore- 
Bide  trees  I  The  chattering  note  of  the  little 
striped  chitmunk,  as  it  pursued  its  fellows  over 
the  fallen  trees,  and  the  hollow  sound  ^  ^he 
male  partridge  heavily  striking  his  wings  against 
his  sides  to  attract  the  notice  of  the  female  birds 
-were  among  the  early  spring  melodies,  for 
such  they  seemed  to  our  forest  dwellers,  and  for 

them^^^  ^'^^""^^  ^'^^  ^''^^''  ^^'''  ^"""^  *^^^  *^^^^ 

j|«<7  fi,  »      .       ,"  '"^"^  ^''^^r,  cold  winter,  was  past. 
And  that  Bpnng,  lovely  spring,  was  approacLing  at"l.» 

They  watched  for  the  first  song  of  the  robin  * 
and  the  full  melody  of  the  red  thrush ;+  the 
rushing  sound  of  the  passenger-pigeon,  as  flocks 
of  these  birds  darted  above  their  heads,  some- 
times  pausing  to  rest  on  the  dry  limb  of  some 
withered  oak,  or  darting  down  to  feed  upon  the 
scarlet  berries  of  the  spicy  winter-green,  the 
acorns  that  still  lay  upon  the  now  uncovered 
ground,  or  the  berries  of  hawthorn  and  dogwood 
that  still  hung  on  the  bare  bushes.     The  pines 
were  now  putting  on  their  rich,  mossy,  green 
sprmg  dresses;  the  skies  were  deep  blue;  nature 
weary  of  her  long  state  of  inaction,   seemed 
waking  into  life  and  light. 

•  Mvt  miffratorius,  or  Aaarioan  robin.  ' 

t  -.  -if^us  rrielodus,  or  wood-thrush. 


I 


258 


^^  "^MDIAN  CRU30ES. 


:  ,. 


On  the  pUiuB  the  snow  soon  disappears,  for 
the  ^,rcn  and  air  has  access  to  the  earth  muca 
easier  than  in  the  close,  dense  forest ;  and  Hec 
tor  and  Louis  were  noon  able  to  move  about 

tTon  tn^T.'  V"""^'  ^.    -'  --  ^^^^  ^'-  *h-  addi- 
tion to  the  house  which  thej  proposed  making. 

They  also  set  to  work,  as  soon  as  the  frost  was 
out  of  the  ground,  to  prepare  their  little  field 
for  the  Indian  corn.    This  kept  them  quite  busy 
Catharme  attended  to  the  house,  and  Indiana 
went  out  fishing  and  hunting,  bringing  in  plenty 
of  small  game  and  fish  every  day.    After  they 
had  piled  and  burned  up  the  loose  boughs  and 
trunks  that  encumbered  the  space  which  the^ 
had  marked  out,  they  proceeded  to  enclose  it 
vnth  a  brush  fence,  which  was  done  by  felling 
the  trees  that  stood  in  the  line  of  the  field  and 
letting  them  fall  so  as  to  form  the  bottom  W  of 
tne  fence,   which  ih^y  then  made  of  sufficient 
iieight  by  piling  up  arms  of  trees  and  brush- 
wood.   Perhaps  in  this     utter  they  were  too 
particular,     .  th..e  was   .o  fear  of  "breachy 
cattle,    or  any  cattle,  intruding  on  the  crop ;  but 
Hector  mam-.:  .3d  that  de.r  and  be  vs  were  as 
much  to  be  guarded  against  as  oxen  and  covs 

Ihe  httle  enclosure  wa.  .ade  secure  from 
any  such  depredator^  ana  was  as  clean  as 
hands  could  make  it,  .  .  t '  3  two  cousins  were 
>^tting  on   a  log,  co.    mte.  y  surveying  their 


THE   CANADIAN  CRUSOES.  269 

^OTk,  and  talking  of  the  time  when  the  grain 
was  to  be  put  in.     It  was  about  the  beginning 
of  the  second  week  in  May,  as  near  as  they 
could  guess  f,-oni  the  bursting  of  the  forest  buds 
an(    the  blooming  of  such  of  the  flowers  as  the7 
were  acquainted  with.     Hector's  eyes  had  fol- 
lowed  the  flight  of  a  large  eagle  that  now 
turnmg  from  the  lake,  soared  away  majestically 
towards  the  east  or  Oak  .ills.     But  soon  his 
eye  was  attracted  to  another  object.    The  loftiest 
part  of  the  ridge  wa.s  enveloped  in  smoke.     At 
first  he  thought  it  must  be  some  mist-wreath 
hoyermg  over  its  brow;    but  soon  the  dense 
rolling  clouds  rapidly  spread  on  each  side,  and 
he  felt  certain  that  it  was  from  fire,  and  nothing 
but  fire,*  that  those  dark  volumes  arose. 

"Louis,  look  yonder  I  the  hills  to  the  east  are 
on  iire." 

"  0      re.  Hector  ?  you  are  dreaming  I" 

"  Nay,  but  look  there  I" 

The  hills  were  now  shrouded  in  one  dense 
rollmg  cloud ;  it  moved  on  with  fearful  rapiditv 
down  the  shrubby  side  or  the  hill,  supplied  b 
the  dry,  withered  foliage  and  deer-grass,  which 
was  like  stubble  to  the  flames. 
^  "It  IS  two  miles  off,  or  more,"  said  Louis; 
•  and  the  creek  will  stop  its  progress  long  before 


^'  I'yiliuXX  I, 


260 


THE  CANADIAN  CRUSOlCa. 


Irjn."""-''"'^"'^^-™^"^-.  beyond 

"Th<  cedars  are  as  drv  n«j  tinri^^         i 
the  crPf^lr  it  ic  "^        tinder;  and  as  to 

ine  creek,  it  is  so  narrow,  a  burnino-  treo  f  .Hi 

p.pe,  wWa  ho  was  out  in  the  new  fallow-  the 
eaves  were  dry,  and  kindled ;  and  beforii^h! 
the  woods  were  burning  for  miles."  ^ 

„J'^'.r'"/  S'"""'^  spectacle,  those  pine-hills 
when  the  fire  got  i„  among  ihem,"  saM  i^'"i^ 
See,  see  how  fast  the  fires  kindle  •  that  ml 
be  some  fallen  pi„e  that  they  have  ^o^mT 

"If  the  wind  would  but  change,  and  blowm 

the  „ppos,ta  direction  1"  said  Heftor,  anxiinll" 

The  wind,  mon  ami,  seems  to  have  litt^ 

nflnencc ;  for  as  long  as  the  fire  finds  fuel  f  oi 

'he  dry  bushes  and  grass,  it  drives  on    even 

against  the  wind."  '        ° 

..tl  ^^7-  ?°''°  *^  '''■"^  freshened,  and  thev 
eould  plainly  see  a  long  line  of  wicked  briZ 
flames  in  advance  of  the  dense  mass  of 'vapot 


e,  bejond 

and  as  to 
ee  falling 
side;  be- 
lys  does 
-V  fur  the 
^member 
low  long 
t  raged  I 
father's 
ow;  the 
re  night 

ne-hills, 
I  Louis, 
it  mus; 
lold  of  ; 
I — is  it 

^low  m 
iously. 
5  little 
1  from 
even 

I  thej 
aright 
apo^ir 


THE   CANADIAN   CRUSOES. 


2A1 


which  hung  in  its  rear.  On  it  came,  that  rolling 
sea  of  flame,  with  inconceivable  rapidity,  gather- 
ing  strength  as  it  advanced.  The  demon  of 
destruction  spread  its  red  wings  to  the  blast, 
rushing  on  with  fiery  speed;  and  soon  hill  and 
valley  were  wrapped  in  one  sheet  of  flame. 

"  It  must  have  been  the  work  of  the  Indians,' 
said  Louis.  "We  had  better  make  a  retreat  to 
the  island  in  case  of  the  fire  crossing  the  valley. 
We  m.ust  not  neglect  the  canoe ;  if  the  fire 
sweeps  round  by  the  swamp,  it  may  come  upon 
us  unawares,  and  then  the  loss  of  the  canoe 
would  prevent  escape  by  the  lake.  But  here 
are  the  girls ;  let  us  consult  them." 

"It  is  the  Indian  burning,"  said  Indiana; 
"  that  is  the  reason  there  are  so  few  big  trees  on 
that  hill ;  they  burn  it  to  make  the  grass  better 
for  the  deer." 

Hector  had  often  pointed  out  to  Louis  the 
appearance  of  fire  having  scorched  the  bark  of 
the  trees,  where  they  were  at  work,  but  it  seemed 
to  have  been  many  years  back ;  and  when  they 
were  digging  for  the  site  of  the  root-house*  below 
the  bank,  which  they  had  just  finished,  they  had 
met  with  charred  wood,  at  the  depth  of  six  feet 
below  the  soil,  which  must  have  lain  there  tilj 
the  earth  had  accumulated  over  it ;  a  period  of 

♦  Root-houses  are  built  over  (.eep  excavations  below  the 

a  —  Wis  Ai«,wj  ^r  t.«v  roOco  BuOreu  r.uuiu  do  spouoCu 


i     i 


262 


THE  CANADIAN  CRCSOES. 


riTf  Tl'  '""^"^y  1>^™  passed  since 
the  wood  had  been  bnrned,  as  it  was  so  much 
decomposed  as  to  crumble  beneath  the  wooden 
shovel  which  they  were  digging  with. 

AJI  day  they  watched  the  progress  of  that  Berv 
sea  whose  waves  were  flame-red,  rolling  flame 
Onward  it  came,  with  resistless  speed,  o^rpow- 
enng  every   obstacle,  widening  its  sphere  of 
ac Uon,  till  ,t  formed  a  perfect  semicircle  about 
hem.    As  the  night  drew  on,  the  splendour  of 
the  scene  became  more  apparent,  and  the  path 
of  he  fire  better  defined  ;  but  there  was  no  fear 
of  the  conflagration  spreading  as  it  had  done  in 
^edaytoe.      The  wind  had  sunk,  and  the 
copious  dews  of  evening  effectually  put  a  stop  to 
the  progress  of  the  fire.     The  chLen  eo'lild 
now  gaze  m  security  upon  the  magnificent  spec- 
tocle  before  them,  without  the  excitement  po. 

-hevl.'';'''''^''  r^-^  '^"""g  "-  dayti'me. 
-hey  lay  down  to  sleep  in  perfect  security  that 

nigh.,  but  with  the  consciousness  that,  itko 

breeze  sprung  up  in  the  morning,  they  iust  be 

on  the  alert  to  secure  their  little  dwelling  and 

ts  content  from  the  devastation  that  threalncd 

t.     They  knew  that  they  had  no  power  to  stop 

men  better  than  a  rough  wood-shovel,  which 
would  be  found  very  ineffectual  in  op;nTn '  a 
trench  or  turning  the  ground  up,  so  as  to  cut  off 


THE  CAIiADIAN  ORUSOES.  263 

the  communication  with  the  dry  grass,  leaves, 
and  branches,  which  are  the  fuel  for  supplyina 
the  fires  on  the  plains.  The  little  clearing  on 
one  side  the  house  thej  thought  would  be  its 
safeguard,  but  the  fire  was  advancing  on  three 
sides  of  them. 

"Let  us  hold  a  council,  as  the  Indians  do.  to 
consider  what  is  to  be  done." 

"I  propose,"  said  Louis,  "retreating,  bag  and 
baggage,  to  the  nearest  point  of  Long  Island." 

"My  French  cousin  has  well  spoken,"  said 
Hector,  mimicking  the  Indian  mode  of  speak- 
ing;  but  listen  to  the  words  of  the  wise  I 
propose  to  take  all  our  household  stores  that  are 
of  the  most  value  to  the  island,  and  lodge  the 
rest  safely  m  our  new  root-house,  first  removing 
from  Its  neighbourhood  all  such  light,  loose  mat- 
ter  as  is  likely  to  take  fire ;  the  earthern  roof 
will  save  It  from  destruction  ;  as  to  the  shanty 
it  must  take  its  chance  to  stand  or  fall." 

"The  fence  of  the  little  clearing  will  be 
burned,  no  doubt.  Well,  never  mind,  better 
that  than  our  precious  selves ;  and  the  corn  for- 
tunately,  is  not  yet  sown,"  said  Louis. 

Hector's  advice  met  with  general  applause, 
and  the  girls  soon  set  to  work  to  secure  the 
property  they  meant  to  leave. 

Itwes  a  fortunaie  thing  that  the  root-house 

naa  been  fin ialied  o°  '*  ^ -j  -   - 

cu,  t«  it  xviuicu  a  secure  store* 


i     M 


264 


THE   CANADIAN  CRUSOES. 


house  for  their  goods,  and  would  also  be  made 
available  as  a  hiding-place  from  the  Indians,  in 
time  of  need.  The  boys  carefully  scraped  away 
all  the  combustible  matter  from  its  vicinity,  and 
also  from  the  house ;  but  the  rapid  increase  of 
the  fire  now  warned  them  to  hurry  down  to  join 
Catharine  and  the  young  Mohawk,  who  had 
gone  oflP  to  the  lake  shore  with  such  things  as 
they  required  to  take  with  them. 


THE  CANADIAN   CRUSOES. 


265 


made 

ms,  in 
[  away 

Y,  and 
ase  of 
o  join 
3  had 
igs  as 


' 


CHAPTER    XI. 

"  I  know  a  lake  where  the  cool  waves  break, 
And  softly  fall  on  the  silver  sand, 
And  no  stranger  intrudes  on  that  solitude. 
And  no  voices  but  ours  disturb  the  strand." 

Ibish  Sons. 

^HE  breeze  had  sprung  up,  and  had  already 
-^  brought  the  fire  down  as  far  as  the  creek. 
The  swamp  had  long  been  on  fire,  and  now  the 
flames  were  leaping  among  the  decayed  timbers, 
roaring  and  crackling  among  the  pines,  and 
rushing  to  the  tops  of  the  cedars,  springing  from 
heap  to  heap  of  the  fallen  branches,  and  filling 
the  air  with  dense  volumes  of  black  and  suffo- 
cating smoke.  So  quickly  did  the  flames  ad- 
vance, that  Hector  and  Louis  had  only  time  to 
push  off  the  canoe  before  the  heights  along  the 
shore  were  wrapped  in  smoke  and  fire.  Many 
a  giant  oak  and  noble  pine  fell  crashing  to  the 
earth,  sending  up  showers  of  red  sparks  as  its 
burning  trunk  shivered  in  its  fall.  Glad  to 
escape  from  the  suffocating  vapour,  the  boys 
quickly  paddled  out  to  the  island,  enjoying  the 
cool,  fresh  air  of  the  lake.  Reposing  on  the 
grass  beneath  the  trees,  they  passed  the  day, 
iiiioiuureu  iroiiA  tuo  GOOiiuay  ouu,  mxd  waiiCixeu 
23 


266 


THE   CANADIAN   CRUSOES. 


the  progress  of  the  fires  upon  the  shore.  At 
night  the  girls  slept  securely  under  the  canoe, 
which  they  raised  on  one  side  by  means  of 
forked  stiiks  stuck  in  the  ground. 

It  was  a  grand  sight  to  see  the  burning  plains 
at  night  reflected  on  the  water.  A  thousand 
flaming  torches  flickered  upon  its  still  surface, 
to  which  the  glare  of  a  gas-lighted  city  would 
have  been  dim  and  dull  by  contrast. 

Louis  and  Hector  would  speculate  on  the  prob- 
able chances  of  the  shanty  escaping  from  the 
fire,  and  of  the  fence  remaining  untouched.  Of 
the  safety  of  the  root-house  they  entertained  no 
fear,  as  the  grass  was  already  springing  green 
on  the  earthen  roof;  and  below  they  had  taken 
every  precaution  to  secure  its  safety,  by  scraping 
up  the  earth  near  it.* 

Catharine    lamented   for   the    lovely  spring- 
flowers  that  would  be  destroyed  by  the  fire. 

"We  shall   have  neither  huckleberries  nor 
strawberries  this  summer,"  she  said,  mournfully; 

♦  Many  a  crop  of  grain  and  comfortable  homestead  has  been 
BBvad  by  turning  a  furrow  round  the  field ;  and  great  conflagra- 
tions have  been  efl'ectually  stopped  by  men  beating  the  fire  out 
with  spades,  and  hoeing  up  the  fresh  earth  so  as  to  cut  off  all 
communication  with  the  dry  roots,  grass,  and  leaves  that  feed 
Its  onward  progress.  Water,  even  could  it  be  got,  which  is 
often  impossible,  ia  not  near  so  effectual  in  stopping  the  pro- 
gress of  fire ;  even  women  and  little  children  can  assist  in  sucb 
etuergencies. 


THE   CANADIAN  CRUSOES. 


267 


and   the  pretty   roses   and   bushes   will   be 
scorched,  and  the  ground  black  and  dreary." 

"  The  fire  passes  so  rapidly  over  that  it  does 
not  destroy  many  of  the  forest  trees,  only  the 
dead  ones  are  destroyed  ;  and  that,  you  know 
leaves  more  space  for  the  living  ones  to  grow 
and  thrive  in,"  said  Hector.     "  I  have  seen,  the 
year  after  a  fire  has  run  in  the  bush,  a  new  and 
fresh  set  of  plants  spring  up,  and  even  some  that 
looked  withered  recover;  the  earth  is  renewed 
and  manured   by  the  ashes ;  and  it  is  not  so 
great  a  misfortune  as  it  at  first  appears." 

"  But  how  black  and  dismal  the  burnt  pine- 
woods  look  for  years  I"  said  Louis.  "  I  do  not 
thmk  there  is  a  more  melancholy  sight  in  life 
than  one  of  those  burnt  pine- woods.  There  it 
stands,  year  after  year,  the  black,  branchless 
trees  pointing  up  to  the  blue  sky,  as  if  crying 
for  vengeance  against  those  that  kindled  the 
nres." 

^^  "  They  do,  indeed,  look  ugly,"  said  Catharine ; 
yet  the  girdled  ones  look  very  nearly  as  ill."* 
At  the  end  of  two  days  the  fires  had  ceased  to 
rage,  though  the  dim  smoke-wreaths  to  the  west- 
ward showed  where  the  work  of  destruction  was 
Btill  going  on. 

As  there  was  no  appearance  of  any  Indians 

*  Tho  eirdlod  nin««  ««  vjiuji  u_  i.-_i_..     ., 


<f/ 


■-^.  .1 


5^ 


268 


THE  CANADIAN  CRUSOES. 


on  the  lake,  nor  yet  at  the  point  (Anderson's 
Point,  as  it  is  now  called)  on  the  other  side, 
^hey  concluded  the  fires  had  possibly  originated 
by  accident,— some  casual  hunter  or  trapper 
having  left  his  camp-fire  unextinguished;  but 
as  they  were  not  very  likely  to  come  across  the 
acene  of  the  conflagration,  they  decided  on  re- 
.Surning  back  to  their  old  home  without  delay ; 
ftnd  it  was  with  some  feeling  of  anxiety  ihat 
they  hastened  to  see  what  evil  had  befallen 
their  shanty. 

"  The  shanty  is  burned !"  was  the  simulta- 
neous exclamation  of  both  Louis  and  Hector, 
as  they  reached  the  rising  ground  th£,t  should 
have  commanded  a  view  of  its  roof.  "  It  ia 
well  for  us  that  we  secured  our  things  in  the 
root-house,"  said  Hector. 

"  Well,  if  that  is  safe,  who  cares  ?  we  can 
soon  build  up  a  new  house,  larger  and  better 
than  the  old  one,"  said  Louis.  "  The  chief  of 
our  fence  i*j  gone,  too,  I  see ;  but  that  we  can 
renew  at  our  leisure ;  no  hurry,  if  we  get  it 
done  a  month  hence,  say  I.  Come,  ma  belle,  do 
not  look  so  sorrowf  il.  There  is  our  little  squaw 
will  help  us  to  set  up  a  capital  wigwam,  while 
the  new  house  k  building." 

"  But  the  nice  table  that  t-ou  made,  Louis, 
and  the  benches  and  shelves!'' 

"Never  mind,  Cathv,  ■!-«   .iv   h^^t   Srit-- 


THE   CANADIAN  CRUSOES. 


269 


tables,  «»<i  benches,  and  shelves  too.  Never 
fear,  ma  chlre,  the  same  industrious  Louis  will 
make  things  comfortable.  I  am  not  sorry  the 
old  shanty  is  Jown  ;  we  shall  have  a  fomous 
one  put  up,  twice  as  large,  for  the  winter.  After 
the  corn  is  planted  we  shall  have  nothing  else 
to  do  but  to  think  about  it." 

The  next  two  or  three  days  were  spent  in 
erecting  a  wigwam,  with  poles  and  birch-bark  ; 
and  as  the  weather  was  warm  and  pleasant, 
they  did  not  feel  the  inconvenience  so  much  as 
they  would  have  done  had  it  been  earlier  in  the 
beason.  The  root-house  formed  an  excellent 
atore-house  and  pantry ;  and  Indiana  contrived, 
in  putting  up  the  wigwam,  to  leave  certain  loose 
folds  between  the  birch-bark  lining  and  outer 
covering,  which  formed  a  series  of  pouches  or 
bags,  in  which  many  articles  could  be  stowed 
awav  out  of  siffht.* 

While  the  girls  were  bupy  contriving  the  ar- 
rangements of  the  wigwam,  the  two  boys  were 
not  idle.  The  time  was  come  for  planting  the 
corn ;  a  succession  of  heavy  thunder-showers 
had  soaked  and  softened  the  scorched  earth,  and 
vendered  the  labour  of  moving  it  much  easier 
than  they  had  anticipated.     They' had  cut  for 

•*  In  tbl5  way  the  winter  wigwams  of  the  Indians  rjo  oon- 
•tructed  so  as  to  give  plonty  of  stowing  room  to  all  their  little 

23* 


270 


THE  CANADIAN  CBUSOES, 


^/ 


themselves  wooden  trowels,  with  which  they 
raised  the  hills  for  the  seed.  The  corn  planted 
they  next  turned  their  attention  to  cutting 
house-logs ;  those  which  they  had  prepared  had 
been  burned  up;  so  they  had  their  labour  to 
begin  again. 

.    ^^^'  *;f °  ^''^'  Proved  good  helps  at  the  rais- 
iiig;  and  m  the  course  of  a  few  weeks  they  had 
the  comfort  of  seeing  a  more  commouious  dwell- 
ing  than  the  former  one  put  up.     The  finishing 
of  this,  with  weeding  the  Indian  corn,  renewing 
the  fence,  and  E.hing,  and  trapping,  and  shooting 
partridges  and     acks  and  pigeons,  fully  oocu 
pied  their  time  this  summer.     The  fruit  season 
was  less  abundant  this  year  thin  th^  r.r.^  • 
nnp     Tu^  ^     1    1  r    ^  "  ^^®  previous 

one.  The  fire  had  done  this  mischief,  and  they 
had  to  go  far  a-field  to  collect  fruits  during  th« 
summer  months.  ® 

It  so  happened  that  Indiana  had  gone  out 
early  one  morning  with  the  boys,  and  Catharine 
was  alone.  She  had  gone  down  to  the  spring 
for  water,  and  on  her  return  was  surprised  at 
the  sight  of  a  squaw  and  her  family  of  three 
half-grown  lads,  and  an  innocent  little  brown 
papoose.*  In  their  turn  the  strangers  seemed 
equally  astonished  at  Catharine's  appearance. 


tff^ 


THli    CANADIAN  CRUSOES. 


271 


the 


The  smiling  aspect  and  good-natured  laugh  of 
the  female,  however,  soon  reassured  the  fright- 
ened girl,  and  she  gladly  gave  her  the  water 
which  she  had  in  her  birch  dish,  on  her  signi- 
fying her  desire  for  drink.     To  this  Catharine 
added  some  berries,  and  dried  venison,  and  a  bit 
of  maple  sugar,  which  was  received  with  grate- 
ful looks  by  the  boys;  she  patted  the  brown 
baby,  and  was  glad  when  the  mother  released  it 
from  its  wooden  cradle,  and  fed  and  nursed  it. 
The  squaw  seemed  to  notice  the  difference  be- 
tween the  colour  of  her  young  hostess's  fair  skin 
and  her  own  swarthy  hue ;    for  she  often  took 
her  hand,  stripped  up  the  sleeve  of  her  dress, 
and  compared  her  arm  with  her  own,  uttering 
exclamations  of  astonishment   and    curiosity; 
possibly  Catharine  was  the  first  of  a  fair-skinned 
race  this  poor  savage  had  ever  seen.     After  her 
meal  was  finished,  she  set  the  birchen  dish  on  the 
floor,  and  restrapping  the  papoose  in  its  cradle 
prison,  she  slipped  the  basswood-bark  rope  over 
her  forehead,  and  silently  signing  to  her  sons  to 
follow  her,  she  departed.     That  evening  a  pair 
of  ducks  were  found  fastened  to  the  wooden 
latch  of  the  door,  a  silent  offering  of  gratitude 
for  the  refreshment  that  had  been  afforded  to 
this  Indian  women  and  her  children. 
Indiana  thought,  from  Catharin..'s  description, 

that  these  we.rp.  Tnrlinna  wifK  wV>oiv»  oli/%  «r„ 


272  THE  CANADIAN  CRUSOES. 

quainted;  she  spent  some  days  in  watching  the 
lake  and  the  ravine,  lest  a  larger  ana  more  for- 
midable  party  should  be  near.     The  squaw,  she 
said  was  a  widow,  and  went  by  the  name  of 
Mother  Snow-storm,  from  having  been  lost  in 
the  woods,  when  a  little  child,  during  a  heavy 
storm  of  snow,  and  nearly  starved  to  death    She 
was  a  gentle,  kind  woman,  and,  she  believed, 
would  not  do  any  of  them  hurt.     Her  sons  were 
good  hunters;  and  though  so  young,  helped  to 

and  the  little  one. 

I  must  now  pass  over  a  considerable  interval 
of  time,  with  merely  a  brief  notice  that  the  crop 

^r '':""""  ,'"""^^  ^"'^^^*^^'  ^"d  Proved 
aD«i..u.n.,  ard  a  source  of  great  comfort:    The 

r^w^gathemi  and  stored,  and  plenty  ofgame 

hone  ^'  ^"^  additional  store  of 

The  Indians,  for  some  reason,  did  not  pay 
their  accustomed  visit  to  the  lake  this  season 
Indiana  said  they  might  be  engaged  with  war 
among  some  hostile  tribes,  or  had  gone  to  other 
Wmg-grounds.      The   winter  was  unusully 

s^rin.T n  '*  """"  ^°°^  ^'^'''  ''  '''  ^°-     Yet  the 
Itw.!  TT^^  ""''  '"^'^^'  "°^  ^^'''  '^^^  "«"al. 

had  made  any  very  decided  progress. 
I  he  little  log-house  presented  a  neat  and  cox.' 


THE  CANADIAN   CRUSOES. 


278 


fortable  appearance,  both  within  and  without. 
Indiana  had  woven  a  handsome  mat  of  basa 
bark  for  the  floor ;  Louis  ^nd  Hector  had  fur- 
nished it  with  very  decent  seats  and  a  table, 
rough,  but  still  very  respectably  'Constructed, 
considering  their  only  too' s  were  lahawk,  a 

knife,  and  wooden  wedges  for  splitting  the  wood 
into  slabs.  These  Louis  afterwards  smoothed 
with  great  care  and  patience.  Their  bedsteads 
were  furnished  with  thick,  soft  mats,  woven  by 
Indiana  and  Catharine,  from  rushes  which  they 
cut  and  dried ;  but  the  little  squaw  herself  pre- 
ferred lying  on  a  mat  or  deer-skin  on  the  floor 
before  the  fire,  as  she  had  been  accustomed. 

A  new  field  had  been  enclosed,  and  a  fresh 
crop  of  corn  planted,  and  was  now  green  and 
flourishing.  Peace  and  happiness  dwelt  within 
the  log-house; — but  for  the  regrets  that  ever 
attended  the  remembrance  of  all  they  had  left 
and  lost,  no  cloud  would  have  dimmed  the 
serenity  of  those  who  dwelt  beneath  its  humble 
roof. 

The  season  of  flowers  had  again  arrived, — the 
earth,  renovated  by  the  fire  of  the  former  year, 
bloom'd  with  fresh  beauty, — June,  with  its  fra- 
grant store  of  rosea  and  lilies,  was  now  far  ad- 
vanced,— the  anniversary  of  that  time  when  they 
had  left  their  beloved  parents'  roofs,  to  become 
sojourners  in  the  lonely  wilderness,  had  return- 


IMAGE  EVALUATION 
TEST  TARGET  (MT-3) 


1.0 


I.I 


1.25 


|50     ™^ 

^  1^ 


12.5 
2.2 


2.0 


1.8 


lA.  Ill  1.6 


Photographic 

Sciences 
Corporation 


23 


MAIN  STREET 
l,N.Y.  14580 
(716)  872-4503 


WEST 
WEBSTER 


'^Ci' 


^.^> 


^?i:«^ 


'^ 


274: 


THE  CANADIAJf  CRUSOES. 


anxiety  thlyZZ     w.   "''  "'"'  '""«'> 

gentleness,  her  ^XTld tilTt:',^- 
ove,  seeded  eaeh  day  to  incre  J    N^l  Idt"? 

Sedeemer.    She  had  T'a         ""'""''^  "''  ''^ 

Catharine  Car";'"?""^  "?  '^  "»-'"»• 
usually  preferred  staying  at  home, 


THE  CANADIAN   CRUSOES. 


275 


and  preparing  the  meals  against  their  return. 
She  had  gathered  some  fine  ripe  strawberries, 
which,  with  plenty  of  stewed  rice,  Indian  meal 
cake,  and  maple  sugar,  was  to  make  their  dinner. 
She  was  weary  and  warm,  for  the  day  had  been 
hot  and  sultry.     Seating  herself  on  the  threshold 
of  the  door,  she  leaned  her  back  against  the  door- 
post, and  closed  her  eyes.    Perhaps  the  poor 
child's  thoughts  were  wandering  back  to  her 
far-off,  never-to-be-forgotten  home,  or  she  might 
be  thinking  of  the  hunters  and  their  game.    Sud- 
denly a  vague,  undefinable  feeling  of  dread  stole 
over  her  mind :  she  heard  no  steps,  she  felt  no 
breath,  she  saw  no  form ;  but  there  was  a  strange 
consciousness  that  she  was  not  alone — that  some 
unseen  being  was  near,  some  eye  was  upon  her. 
I  have  heard  of  sleepers  starting  from  sleep  the 
most  profound  when  the  noiseless  hand  of  the 
assassin  has  been  raised  to  destroy  them,  as  if  the 
power  of  the  human  eye  could  be  felt  through 
the  closed  lid. 

Thus  fared  it  with  Catharine :  sh-  telt  as  if 
some  unseen  enemy  was  near  her ;  and,  spring- 
ing to  her  feet,  she  cast  a  wild,  troubled  glance 
around.  No  living  being  met  her  eye;  and, 
ashamed  of  her  cowardice,  she  resumed  her  seat. 
The  tremulous  cry  of  her  little  grey  squirrel, 
a  pet  which  she  had  tamed  and  taught  to  run 


^'^^  THE  CANADIAN  CRUSOES. 

"What  aileth  thee,  wee  dearie?"  she  said 
tenderly  as  the  timid  little  creature  erept  t^L 
bhng  to  her  breast.     "  Thy  mistress  h  s 's^ ^d 

neither   catamount    nor  weasel  here  to  seize 

fiead  and  flung  back  the  thick  clustere  of  soft 

hXrtfled  I  °     f  "^  '?^  ^'''^  »P°"  I^^''  ■»<=' 
ner  terrified  gaze,  gleaming  with  sullen  ferocitv 

S17f  u        ""^  "'""^  ""^  ™iW«,  partly  oon- 

?Xd  ir/'  r '^'''  ^^^^«^'  "-k  t^" 

nTT.    7  I    '*'■•  ""^  P""  g''-'  "^'her  spoke 
ha  dTtLti        "*''"!'  '"'"^^'  but  pressing  he 

loTd  irfSoTr  w'r  -"  '^  *-  ^'"' '^^ 
Stir  ~-"'^.  -""-% 

Step,  the  savage  advanced  from  his  lurking-place 

Hera,  with  such  a  g»ze  as  the  wily  sern^i  i, 
said  to  fascinate  his  prey.  Hia  hapletCm 
moved  not;  whither  could  she  flee  t^e^a^on^ 

hertthT 'n^f  '"  -%  Wo^eTt^ken 
her  ,n  the  race?  where  conceal  heraelf  from  him 
whose  wary  e,^fl,ed  upon  her  seemed  tode^riv" 
ner  of  all  vital  energy  ?  ^^ynve 


^ 


THE   CANADIAN  CRUSOES. 


27' 


T 


Uttering  that  singular,  expressive  guttural 
which  seems  with  the  Indian  to  answer  the  pur- 
pose of  every  other  exclamation,  he  advanced 
and   taking  the   girl's   ice-cold    hands  in   his,' 
tightly  bound  them  with  a  thong  of  deer's  hide, 
and  led  her  unresistingly  away.     By  a  circuitous 
path  through  the  ravine  they  reached  the  foot 
of  the  mount,  where  lay  a  birch  canoe,  rocking 
gently  on  the  waters,  in  which  a  middle-aged 
female  and  a  young  girl  were  seated.     The 
females  asked  no  questions,  and  expressed  no 
word  indicative  of  curiosity  or  surprise,  as  the 
strong  arm  of  the  Indian  lifted  his  captive  into 
the  canoe,  and  made  signs  to  the  elder  squaw 
to  push  from  the  shore.     When  all  had  taken 
their  p.aces,  the  woman,  catching  up  a  paddle 
from  the  bottom  of  the  little  vessel,  stood  up, 
and  with  a  few  rapid  strokes  sent  it  skimming 
over  the  lake. 

The  miserable  captive,  overpowered  with  the 
sense  of  her  calamitous  situation,  bowed  down 
her  head  upon  her  knees,  and  concealing  her 
agitated  face  in  her  garments,  wept  in  silent 
agony.  Visions  of  horror  presented  themselves 
to  her  bewildered  brain— all  that  Indiana  had 
described  of  the  cruelty  of  this  vindictive  race 
came  vividbr  before  her  mind.  Poor  child,  what 
miserable  thoughts  were  thine  during  that  brief 
voyage  i 
24 


278 


tBE  CANADIAN  CKUSOES. 


beloved  ones  on  mLiJ,    !f'"^  ""'  ">"^ 
fading  it  folate,     wr3\'!'''-,''o„e  and 

'ease?    As  these  ideas  clTJ     \^°  ''"P^  "^  '■<'• 

t»  agitated  mind/siri  r      °*"  *^°°S'' 
'"g  with  tea,^  to  he  fae«  ii   r^""  =''^''"'- 
companions  witht  titen^        Z"*'""  ""^  ^is 
^teartbutthes.oi::,^:^^'^^'."'^""'/ 
have  softened  at  its  sad  aDoe!  •  h!  /  *""  "'°"''' 
glance  of  sympathy  mp^T'  """"o answering 
i«»  silent  loot  of  Z-l^"'  "^  '-^^  S''^^  ^aet 
moved  the  cold  aLLZr  *,  """''^ '""" "  -nnselo 
»f  the  woeS^I-rr"''''^''''''*"^ 
melaneholy  attitude,  bSrinHer  ?'""'''  ^'' 
heavmg  bosom  to  Wde  iS^bf,        ^  '°  ''^ 
tie  heartless  strangeT  ^  ""°'^°™  f««" 

She  was  not  fujjy  aware  th.t  ;♦  • 
InAan's  education  to  Sth       "  <"" '"'  "■« 
of  the  heart,  to  cheek  a  1  V      """^^  ^'^'^''g^ 
emotions  which  ts  Llh  T  "^  r*'  '^■"'- 
from  the  savage        ^  ''^  """'"2«d  man 

th^'Si^fspr^Z'^-^-fl-ceof 

•«to  the  world  TL  the,'''"  ^^^  '"'^<'^'' 
obedient  to  the  will  '^t  ^^^  °'  ""e  dis- 


? 


obedient  to  the;;;"™':;  ^rr"'^*^- 

down  the  st«,ngho]ds  of  lit^i '°  ''«'= 


to  teach  man  thlt  he  is tv     5      *'^'  '"«' 

^  "^  bjr  nature  the  child  of 


THE   CANADIAN  CRUSOES.  279 

wrath  and  victim  of  sin,  and  that  in  his  unre- 
generated  nature  his  whole  mind  is  at  enmity 
with  God  and  his  fellow-men,  and  that  in  his 
flesh  dwelleth  no  good  thing.     And  the  Indian 
has  acknowledged  that  power,-he  has  cast  his 
Idols  of  cruelty  and  revenge,  those  virtues  on 
which  he  prided  himself  in  the  blindness  of  his 
heart,  to  the  moles  and  the  bats;  he  has  bowed 
and  adored  at  the  foot  of  the  Cross  ;-but  it  was 
not  so  m  the  days  whereof  I  have  spoken  * 

*  Appendix  K. 


'#■ 


280 


THE  CANADIAN  CRUSOES. 


=-#•   -1 


CHAPTER  XII. 

Beaumont  AND  Fletohbb. 

l«<i  to  the  camp  Xu   ,^  «>e„arrowpath  that 

enclosed  with  shrubby  tC   thf     ^"^^  'P<" 
at  the  Jake  shore  to  hri  „.""""*"  '^^'^'^ 

It  is  a  fearful  thintr  tn  foil  ■  «  , 
"»  enemy,  but  doubl^  VtiX:  '""'^  "' 
»  stranger  to  the  langua  Ji„  "  ^  \'  "'™>'  '^ 
plead  for  mercy-whS  1 .  "^  *"  ''""'d 
"or  his  laws  th^^se^y  wh^^';!  "»'  °«  «od, 
governed.     Thus  felf  t^  ourselves  are 

Btood  alone,  mute  w  th  ,  ^°°'  °"P"™  ^  ^''e 
naked  dusky  forms  wl^L 'r^^  "■«  '''"^• 
he^elf  surrounded  Sh  "^  *'  ""^  ^°™d 
-nd  that  Strang  a.t b?'  if^  ^r"  ^'T 
eye  might  r^t  upon  some  di'r  f^kt  .""^  t"' 
she  saw  not  the  Irinri  k  *  lamiimr  face,  but 

'  irmd  but  grave  face  of  Hector 


•     t 


THE   CANADIAN   CRUSOES. 


281 


» 


nor  met  the  bright  sparkling  eye  of  her  cousin 
Louis,  nor  the  soft,  subdued,  pensive  features  of 
the  Indian  girl,  her  adopted  sister— she  stood 
alone  among  those  wild,  gloomy-looking  men  ; 
some  turned  away  their  eyes  as  if  they  would 
not  meet  her  woe-stricken  countenance,  lest  they 
should  be  moved  to  pity  her  sad  condition ;  no 
wonder  that,  overcome  by  the  sense  of  her  utter 
friendliness,  she  hid  her  face  with  her  fettered 
hands  and  wept  in  despair.     But  the  Indian's 
sympathy  is  not  moved  by  tears  and  sighs; 
calmness,  courage,  defiance  of  danger,  and  con' 
tempt  of  death  are  what  be  venerates  and  ad- 
mires  even  in  an  enemy. 

The  Indians  beheld  her  grief  unmoved.  At 
length  the  old  man,  who  seemed  to  be  a  chief 
among  the  rest,  motioned  to  one  of  the  women 
who  leaned  against  the  side  of  the  wigwam,  to 
come  forward  and  lead  away  the  stranger. 
Catharine,  whose  senses  were  beginn  ,,-  to  be 
more  collected,  heard  the  old  man  give  orders 
that  she  was  to  be  fed  and  cared  for.  Gladly 
did  she  escape  from  the  presence  of  those  pitiless 
men,  from  whose  gaze  she  shrunk  with  maiden- 
ly modesty.  And  now  when  alone  with  the 
woman,  she  hesitated  not  to  make  use  of  that 
natural  language  which  requires  not  the  aid  of 
speech  to  make  itself  understood ;  clasping  her 

hands    imnln-rinrrlTr     alio    tn'^H    ef    At--    /"--J.    -  <•  .1 

24* 


282  THE   CANAWAN  CBUS0E3 

teare,  while  shn  n^v!^  '"■'''  '^'  "owin" 

been  ao  suddI„7S„  '""'  *'"'=''  ^""^  ^-^J 

pointed  to  the  north  t  she  s^rit"'  .*'' 
motioned  to  the  youn^  mT  T  ^^^  ""^^ 
been  Catharine/:^^^^^^  T'^ '•>«  had 
^"•>g  a  hunting.knife   with       '^^'=*°oe-to 

oneofthefoldsffthe^rlhl^k'onh'"'"'" 
Catharine  beheld  tl,«   j    ?,      °"°e  wigwam. 

tands  of  thTlndian  ^  ^"'P""  '"  'ho 

at  her  throat.    So  you„7  ^     ^'  ''"'  '^^''^ 
a  oruel,  bloody  death  r^TTf/r^^'  '°  <he  by 

ofW.nrdert^ot'prtrur'' '''^''-« 
denied-»he  east  betSZh.T'^"'''"^ 
up  her  hands  in  silenT^™  ^"^^^  "'"'  held 

Indian  woman   but  to  T '  "".'  '^  *^  '^'•^'"i^d 
P'-ayer  of  the  'pot  Z^Z  *'t  'T "^  ""« 

™  ot  the  terror-struck  girl, 


Ig 


«l 


THE  CANADIAN  CRUSOES.  288 

«^hile  the  Other  held  the  weapon  of  destruction ; 
vvith  a  quick  movement  she  severed  the  though 
tha    bound  the  fettered  wrists  of  the  pleadinc. 
captive,  and  with  a  smile  that  seemed  to  liah°t 
up  her  whole  face  she  raised  her  from  her  pros- 
trate position    laid  her  hand  upon  her  young 
head  and  with  an  expres.sion  of  good-humoured 
surprise  lifted  the  flowing  tresse's  of  her  sunn" 
bair  and  spread  them  over  the  back  of  her  own 
swarthy  hand ;  then,  as  if  amused  by  the  striking 
contrast  she  shook  down  her  own  jettyblack 
hair  and  twined  a  tress  of  it  with  one  of  the 
fair-haired  girl's-then  laughed  till  her  teeth 
shone  like  pearls  within  her  red  lips.     Many 
were  the  exclamations  of  childish  wonder  that 
broke  from  the  other  females,  as  they  compared 
the  snowy  arm  of  the  stranger  with  tieir  own 
dusky  skins ;  it  was  plain  that  they  had  no  inten- 
tion of  harming  her,  and  by  degrees  distrust  and 

!ll     .      T^f^  companions  began  in  some 
measure  to  subside. 

The  sqno^w  motioned  her  to  take  a  seat  oa 
a  mat  be.,uu  her,  and  gave  her  a  handful  of 
parched  rice  and  some  deer's  flesh  to  eat;  but 
Catharine's  heart  was  too  heavy;  she  wa^  sut^ 
fering  from  thirst,  and  on  pronouncing  the 
Indian  word  for  water,  the  young  girl  snatched 
up  a  piece  of  birch-bark  from  the  floor  of  the 
tent,  and  gathering  the  corners  together,  ran  to 


7 


THE    fANADUtr  CRUSOIS. 

•o  the  lips  of  her  gues^  ^.JH  '  "'''"''  ''"^  ^^''^ 
by  'he  long  deep  !Z1  T      '"  """""^  """^ea 
«!<vkedhertlu- J.  a^  °  "  "•.'"'  "'"<=''  Catharine 
hope  came  o"  'h   ':'™"""S,"^<=»elou,„  of 
look  of  kindly  fcelinl"^  ^  f'"  "■■'*<"'  "'o 
young  India/giH  relTdt    r^  ''"'  """^l.t  the 
'o  overcome  the  ehowl  j  ^  ^''■'''"=' ^''«'"-ove 
from  time  to    Le  1'    ,  T'""""  "'••"  "°"'J 
«uctuaM  bet.veerh;:\r,  Z  'f'  ""  '"^ 
of  the  Indian  camp  l^     '  T'    ''"P^^'^ion 
qaite  hidden  from  the  !^       '^"^  """  ''  "as 
Catharine  see  Z ^l^ZT^  "^'"'^^  -«" 
«teep  side  of  the  moun    thl  h'  T"''  "°'  *« 
»<»»stomed  to  ascend  andt    her  brothers  were 
«o  the  lake  shorT  „or  w^"'^ '"  '■''^'"'^its 
making  a  signal  t.^  them  tten  !f  7  ■?'""'  °^ 
them  on  the  beach  **  ^^^  seen 

--trrSThi^f'^'P'-^.^'l 
h«ng  over  the  411,  '"^  "''=''«  «"> 

were  launched,  and  io„;  ^^ '  "'  '""  ^''*»' 
in  the  mouth  'of  the  "fvef  °l"r".*fy  --a 
sank  within  her  as  the  ZT'     rthanne's  hea;t 
lake  showed  each  ml/f /'?*"«  ^'">'^'  "^the 
At  midday  they  ha  Jd  .t'    /  "  ""  ^•''«^^- 
river,  where  a  Lai    on,    \'"  ^"'^  '"  the 

flowing  down  throul  tl     P'r  '""'  '  -^«k 
■■ongh  the  woods  afforded  them 


'Sr  in  t))|g 
1  she  heJcI 
J  amused 
-^utharine 
gloam  of 
rked  tlio 
■ught  the 
le  strove 
it  would 
as  sho 
position 
!  it  was 
r  could 
Qor  the 
's  were 
r  visits 
ma  of 
I  seen 

J,  and 
I  still 
dians 
were 
iea.t 
fthe 
nee. 
the 
'eek 
lem 


THE  CANADIAN   CRLoOES. 


286 


cool  water;  and  here  they  found  several  tents 
put  up  and  a  larger  party  awaiting  their  return. 
The  river  was  here  a  fine,  broad,  deep,  and  tran- 
quil stream;  trees  of  many  kinds  fringed  the 
edge ;  beyond  was  the  unbroken  forest,  whose 
depths  had  never  been  pierced  by  the  step  of 
man— so  thick  andluxuriant  was  the  vegetation, 
that  even  the  Indian  could  hardly  have  pene- 
trated  through  its  dark  owampy  glades ;  far  as 
the  eye  could  reach,  that  impenetrable  inter- 
minable wall  of  verdure  stretched  away  into 
the  far-off  distance. 

On  that  spot  where  our  Indian  camp  then 
stood  are  now  pleasan,  open  meadows,  with  an 
avenue  of  fine  pines  and  balsams;  showing  on 
the  eminence  above  a  large  substantial  dwelling- 
house  su.  rounded  by  a  luxuriant  orchard  and 
garden,  the  property  of  a  naval  officer,*  who 
with  the  courage  and  perseverance  that  mark 
brave  men  of  his  class,  first  ventured  to  break 
the  bush  and  locate  himself  and  his  infant  family 
in  the  lonely  wilderness,  then  far  from  any 
beaten  road  or  the  haunts  of  his  fellow-men. 

But  at  the  period  of  which  I  write,  the  axe 
of  the  adventurous  settler  had  not  levelled  one 
trunk  of  that  vast  forest,  neither  had  the  fire 

♦  Lieiit.  Eubidge,  whoso  interesting  account  of  his  early 
settlemcr  t  may  be  read  iu  a  letter  inserted  in  Captain  Bakil 
Hall's  Letters  from  Canada. 


1 


I '  I 


2««  THE  CANADIAN  CRUS0E3 

^ad  as  she  had  tho«l?l  "^  ^^'""  '"""tea. 

"««  left  her  home  to  hi         ™"''"^'  '^'=^''  ^^e 
Bie^  lake  PlZ^ho^"",  "  ^''"^^^^^on  the 

-  ^er  situation  stlhTdtrThe  T '  "°^' 
panioDs  who  had  „„i,.i  j  ,  ^  "''"r  corn- 
in  all  her  sorrows  I  tf  ^■"i'=''^^«d  heron 
none  to  love  or  cherfsh  '""  ""^  "'""^  ''"I' 

a  desolation  of  spt  1 1^  T"^'"  ""'•  *« ''«" 
g^tful  of  that  tm  tt '  tT'  r'«  <>"  ^-^• 
sustained  her  in  tl»  ."^  '""'""'  ^''^aj'^ 
She  look,^  ronnd  Tnd  hr""*'  "'  ^''^"^-i 
='«»ge,  unseemly 'fori  of  "'"  '^"  "^  '"« 
who  oared  „ot  for  her  .'d  ^^  "^  *"''  ?'°'"™. 
object  of  indifferent  or  ^v       "  '^^  ^*'  "■> 

when  she  thought  of  The  grrfThlThe^'^l "''' 

would   occasion    to   rr»  f  ''^'^  absence 

'hought  of  thefr  Itrf  ""^    ^™^i   the 

The  sooth  ngpaietTH'""'^"^''  ''''  °^''- 

'"'"ng«>«.d?;:;r«:5:rr* '■■«'- 


•ok:   as 


4U3 


wnj 


THE  CANADIAN  CRUSOES. 


287 


wavelets  fell  tinkling  over  the  massy  roots  and 
stones  that    impeded  its  course  to  the  river 
jomed  with  fatigue  and  long  exposure  to  the 
sun  and  air,  caused  her  at  length  to  fall  asleep. 
The  last  rosy  light  of  the  setting  sun  was  dye- 
ing  the  waters  with  a  glowing  tint  when  she 
awoke;  a  soft  blue  haze  hung  upon  the  trees; 
the  kingfisher  and  dragon-fly,  and  a  solitary 
loon,  were  the  only  busy  things  abroad  on  the 
river;  the  first  dar"    ^  up  and  down  from  an  up- 
turned root   near  tne  water's  edge,  feeding  its 
younglings;  the  dragon-fly  hawking  with  rapid 
whirring  sound  for  insects,  and  the  loon,  just 
visible  from  above  the  surface  of  the  still  stream, 
sailed  quietly  on  companionless,  like  her  who 
watched  its  movements. 

The  bustle  of  the  hunters  returning  with  game 
and  fish  to  the   encampment    roused   many  a 
sleepy  brown  papoose,  the  fires  were  renewed, 
and  the  evening  meal  was  now  preparing-^ 
and  Catharine,  chilled  by  the  falling  dew,  crept 
to  the  enlivening  warmth.     And  here  she  was 
pleased  at  being  recognized  by  one  friendly  face 
—it  was  the  mild  and  benevolent  countenance 
of  the  widow  Snow-storm,  who,  with  her  three 
sons,  came  to  bid  her  share  their  camp  fire  and 
food.     The  kindly  grasp  of  the  hand,  the  beam- 
ing  smile  that  was  given  by  this  good  creature, 
aioeit  she  was  ugly  and  ili-featured,  cheered  the 


288 


THE  CANADIAN  CRUSOES. 


sad  captive's  heart.     She  had  given  her  a  cup 
of  cold  water  and  what  food  her  lodging  afford- 
ed, and  in  return  the  good  Indian  took  her  to 
her  wig  ..am  and  fed,  and  warmed,  and  cherished 
her  with  the  loving-kindness  of  a  Christian- 
and  during  all  her  sojourn  in  the  Indian  camp 
Bhe  was  a  tender  mother  over  her,  drying  her 
tears  and  showing  her  those  little  acts  of  Atten- 
tion that  even  the  untaught  Indians  know  are 
grateful  to  the  sorrowful  and  destitute.    Catha- 
rine often  forgot  her  own  griefs  to  repay  this 
worthy  creature's  kindness,  by  attending  to  her 
homely  preparations  of  cookery  or  household 
work.     She  knew  that  a  selfish  indulgence  in 
sorrow  would   do  her  no  good,  and  after  the 
lapse  of  some  days  she  so  well  disciplined  her 
own  heart  as  to  check  her  tears,  at  least  in  the 
presence  of  the  Indian  women,  and  to  assume 
an  air  of  comparative  cheerfulness.     Once  she 
found  Indian  words  enough  to  ask  the  Indian 
widow  to  convey  her  back  to  the  lake,  but  she 
shook  her  head  and  bade  her  not  think  any 
thing  about  it;  and  added,  that  in  the  fall,  when 
the  ducks  came  to  the  rice-beds,  they  should 
all  return,  and  then  if  she  could  obtain  leave 
from  the  chief,  she  would  restore  her  to  her 
lodge  on  the  plains;  but  signified  to  her  that 
patience  was  her  only  present  remedy,  and  that 
submission  to  the  wUl  of  the  chief  wa^  her 


-J 


THE   CANADIAN  CRUSOES. 


289 


wisest  plan.     Comforted  by  this  vague  promise, 
Catharine  strove  to  be  reconcilsd  to  her  strano-e 
lot,  and  still  stranger  companions.     She  could 
not  help  being  surprised  at  the  want  of  curiosity 
respecting  her  that  was  shown  by  the  Indiana 
in  the  wigwam,  when  she  was  brought  thither; 
they  appeared  to  take  little  notice  that  a  stranger 
and  one  so  dissimilar  to  themselves  had  been 
introduced  into  the  camp,  for  before  her  they 
asked   no  questions  about  her,  whatever  they 
might  do  when  she  was  absent,   though   they 
surveyed  her  with  silent  attention.     Catharine 
learned,  by  long  acquaintance  with  this  people, 
that  an  outward  m  (ifestation  of  surprise*  is 
considered  a  want  of  etiquette  and  good  breed- 
ing, or  rather  a  proof  of  weakness  and  childish- 
ness.    The  women,  like  other  females,  are  cer- 
tainly less  disposed  to  repress  this  feeling  of  in- 
quisitiveness  than  the   men,  and  one  of  their 
great  sources  of  amusement,  when   Catharine 
was  among  them,  was  examining  the  difference 
of  texture  and  colour  of  her  skin  and  hair,  and 
holding  long  consultations  over  them.      The 
young  girl  and  her  mother,  those  who  had  pad- 
dled the  canoe  the  day  she  was  carried  away  to 
the  island,  showed  her  much  kindness  in  a  quiet 
way.     The  young  squaw  was  granddaughter  to 
the  old  chief,  and  seemed  to  be  regarded  with 

*  6«e  Appendix  L. 
36 


290 


THE   CANADIAN  CItUSOES. 


il 


considerable  respect  by  the  rest  of  the  women 
she  was  a  gay,  lively  creature,  often  laughing 
and  seemed  to  enjoy  an  inexhaustible  fund  oi 
good  humour.     She  was  inclined  to  extend  her 
patronage  to  the  young  stranger,  making  her 
eat  out  of  her  own  bark  dish,  and  sit  beside  her 
on  her  own  mat.     She  wove  a  chain  of  the 
sweet-scented  gra^s  with  which  the  Indians  de- 
light in  adorniDg  themselves,  likewise  in  per- 
fummg  their  lodges  with  bunches  or  strewin^s 
upon  the  floor.     She  took  great  pains  in  teach- 
mg  her  how  to  acquire  the  proper  attitude  of 
sittmg,  after  the  fashion  of  the  Eastern  nations 
which  position  the  Indian  women  assume  when 
at  rest  in  their  wigwams. 

The  Indian  name  of  this  little  damsel  sitrni- 
fied  the  Snow-bird.  She  Tvas,  like  that  lively 
restless  bird,  always  flitting  to  and  fro  from  tent 
to  tent,  as  garrulous  and  as  cheerful  too  as  that 
merry  little  herald  of  the  spring. 

Once  she  seemed  particularly  attracted  by 
Cathanne's   dress,   which    she  examined   with 
critical  miuuteness,  evincing  great  surprise  at 
the  cut  fringes  of  dressed  doeskin  with  which 
Indiana  had  ornamented  the  border  of  the  short 
jacket  which  she  had  manufactured  for  Catharine 
1  hese  fringes  she  pointed  out  to  the  notice  of 
the  women,  and  even  the  old  chief  was  called 
in  tc  examine  the  dress;  nor  did  thA  lA^mn^o 


THE  CANADIAN  CRirsOES.  291 

and  mocassins  escape  tieir  observation.    There 
ZTnf^vF^r  l^''^  ^  ^'^^°'  ^^^^  burst  from  the 

on  Bare-hill  and  ZTt  ■  ■^  "^"^  """^  *''^' 
'o  .no.  SCtZtn^SHrhJ,— 
possessed  of  a  dress  wroughrrtL  ha„T; 

&    gc  Kji.  iier  iriend  Indiana  enablpd  Pa^u    • 
time,  so  that  she  was  snnn  oKi    x  "^       " 

==:.-■=«=-=: 

^^he  had  noticed  that  among  the  teats  the« 


292 


THE    CANADIAN   CP.USOES. 


was  one  which  stood  apart  from  the  rest,  an-t 
was  only  visited  by  the  old  chief  and  his  grand- 
daughter, or  by  the  elder  women.     At  first  she 
imagined  it  was  some  sick  person,  or  a  secret 
tent  set  apart  for  the  worship  of  the  Great  Spirit  ; 
but  one  day  when  the  chief  of  the  people  had 
gone  up  the  river  hunting,  and  the  children  were 
asleep,  she  perceived  the  curtain  of  skins  drawn 
back,  and  a  female  of  singular  and   strikino- 
beauty  appeared  standing  in  the  open  space  \l 
front.    She  was  habited  in  a  fine  tunic  of  white 
dressed  doeskin  richly  embroidered  with  coloured 
beads  and  stained  quills,  a  full  petticoat  of  dark 
cloth  bound  with  scarlet  descended  to  her  ankles 
leggings  fringed  with  deer-skin  knotted  with 
bands  of  coloured  quills,  with  richly  wrought 
mocassms  on  her  feet.     On  her  head  she  wore  a 
coronet  of  scarlet  and  black  feathers;  her  long 
shming  tresses  of  raven  hair  descended  to  her 
waist,  each  thick  tress  confined  with  a  braided 
band  of  quills  dyed  scarlet  and  blue ;  her  stature 
was  tall  and  well-formed ;  her  large,  liquid,  dark 
eye  wore  an  expression  so  proud  and  mournful 
that  Catharine  felt  her  own  involuntarily  fill 
with   tears  as  she  gazed   upon   this   singular 
being.     She  would  have  approached  nearer  to 
her,  but  a  spell  seemed  on  her ;  she  shrunk  back 
timid  (ind  abashed  beneath  that  wild  melancholy 
glance.    It  was  she,  the  Beam  of  the  Morning, 


OES. 

n  the  rest,  ana 
and  his  grand- 
i.    At  first  she 
on,  or  a  secret 
e  Great  Spirit  ; 
he  people  had 
5  children  were 
3f  skins  drawn 
and   strikinsr 
open  space  in 
tunic  of  white 
i  with  coloured 
tticoat  of  dark 
I  to  her  ankles, 
knotted  with 
3hly  wrought 
ad  she  wore  a 
3rs;  her  long 
ended  to  her 
th  a  braided 
'',  her  stature 
i,  liquid,  dark 
nd  mournful 
>luntaril7  fill 
;his   singular 
ed  nearer  to 
shrunk  back 
i  melancholy 
;he  Morning, 


THE   CAXADIAX   CRUSOES. 


293 


the  self-made  widow  of  the  young  Mohawk 
whose  hand  had  wrought  so  fearful  a^vengealc; 
on  the  treacherous  destroyer  of  her  brother.    She 
stood  there,  at  the  tent  door,  arrayed  in  her 
bridal  robes,  as  on  the  day  when  she  received 
her  death-doomed  victim.  And  when  she  recalled 
her  fearful  deed,  shuddering  with  horror,  Catha- 
nne  drew  back  and  shrouded  herself  within  the 
tent,  fearmg  again  to  fall  under  the  eye  of  that 
terrible  woman.     She  remembered  how  Indiana 
had  told  her  that  since  that  fatal  marriage-feast 
she  had  been  kept  apart  from  the  rest  of  the 
tribe,-she  was  regarded  by  her  people  as  a 
sacred  character,  a  great  Medmne,  a  female  brave 
a  bemg  whom  they  regarded  with  mysterious 
reverence.     She  had  made  this  great  sacrifice 
for  the  good  of  her  nation.     Indiana  said  it  was 
believed  among  her  own  folks  that  she  had  loved 
the  young  Mohawk  passionately,  as  a  tender 
woman  loves  the  husband  of  her  youth  ;  yet  she 
had  hesitated  not  to  sacrifice  him  with  her  own 
hand.     Such  was  the  deed  of  the  Indian  heroinp 
--and  such  were  the  virtues  of  the  unregenerated 
trreeks  and  Eomans  I 
25* 


294 


THE  CANADIAX   CRUSOES. 


CHAPTER   XIII. 

Du^hM  0  or  tl.o  rooky  channel,  fro  hs  alon/ 
Or  whoro  tho  silver  wuters  sootl  ed  to  rest 
The  tree's  tan  «h„ao.  Bleep,  upon  ititeast." 

COLEBIDOK. 

'J^SE  Indian  camp  remained  for  nearly  threa 
JL  weeks  on  this  spot*  and  then  ea^L  „^e 
mormng  the  wigwams  were  all  taken  down  Z 

river.      There  was  very  little  variety  in   «,» 

rr  *";■"""'  °^""'™« ;  *e  riv  fstin  k  p 

ts  slow  flowmg  course  between    low  loZ 

h.ckly  clothed  with  trees,  without  an  o^n W 

hrough  wh.ch  the  eye  might  pierce  to  S  "f 

Idea  of  the  conntiy  beyond ;  not  a  clearing  na 

a  sight  or  sound  of  civilized  man  was  thSe  to 

be  seen  or  heard ,  the  darting  flight  of  the  wild 

birds  as  they  flitted  across  from  one  side  to  th„ 

ory  of  the  blue  jay,  was  all  that  was  heard  from 
Bunnse  to  sunset,  on  that  monotonous  ^yag" 

take  in  firegbod.  ^  '  ^'"'  ^^^^  """^  Peterborough,  td 


• 


THE   CANADIAX  CRUSOES.  295 

ve  ved  m  the  current,  whieh  ran  at  a  consider- 
abe  increase  of  swiftness,  so  that  it  required  the 
umted  energy  of  both  men  and  women  to  keep 
the  I,ght  vessels  from  drifting  down  the  rive? 
agam.     They  were  in  the  rapids,*  and  it  was 
hard  work  to  stem  the  tide,  and  ke^p  the  upwird 
course  of  the  waters.      At  length   the  rap  ds 
w  re  passed,  and  the  weary  Indian  voyagers 
rested  for  a  space  on  the  bosom  of  a  small  but 
tranquil  lake.t    The  rising  moon  shed  her  sS- 
very  light  upon  the  calm  watei^  and  heaven's 
s  ars  shone  down  into  its  quiet  depths,  as  the 
canoes  with  their  dusky  freight  parted  the  glit- 
tering  rays  with  their  light  paddles.    As  they 
proceeded  onward  the  banks  rose  on  either  sid^ 
«.I1  fringed  with  pine,  cedar,  and  oaks.     At  an 
angle  of  the  lake  the  banks  on  either  side  ran 
out  into  two  opposite  peninsulas,  forming  a  nar- 

'  ™I  ^T!^  ^  ^°'^''  «>»*'-^<=«>'g  tbe  lake  once 
more  into  the  appearance  of  a  broad  river,  much 
wider  from  shore  to  ,hore  than  any  other  part 
they  had  passed  through  since  they  had  left  the 
entrance  at  the  EIot  Lake. 

JJormerl,  l„„™  „  WhW.-,  I,..H„.,  „,  ,h,  „.,  „f  ,t. 

t  The  UtUe  l»k»  about «  mU»  hi!o»  P-wVrinirh  .n J  .],„„ 

suburbs  of  the  town.  -»  -nu  .onainj^^iivrt  o,  m. 


"%' 


)/ 


296 


THE   CANADIAN  CRUS0E9. 


Catharine  became  interested  in  the  change  of 
Bcenery;  her  eye  dwelt  with  delight  on  the 
forms  of  glorious  spreading  oaks  and  lofty  pines, 
green  cliff-like  shores  and  low,  wooded  islands; 
while  as  they  proceeded  the  sound  of  rapid  flow- 
ing waters  met  her  ear,  and  soon  the  white  and 
broken  eddies  rushing  along  with  impetuous 
course  were  seen  by  the  light  of  the  moon ;  and 
while  she  was  wondering  if  the  canoes  were  to 
stem  those  rapids,  at  a  signal  from  the  old  chief, 
the  little  fleet  was  pushed  to  shore  on  a  low  flat 
of  emerald  verdure  nearly  opposite  to  the  last 
island.* 

Here,  under  the  shelter  of  some  beautiful 
spreading  black  oaks,  the  women  prepared  to 
set  up  their  wigwams.  They  luid  brought  the 
poles  and  birch-bark  covering  from  the  en- 
campment below,  and  soon  all  was  bustle  and 
business— unloading  the  canoes,  and  raising  the 
tents.  Even  Catharine  lent  a  willing  hand  to ' 
assist  the  fern;  s  in  bringing  up  the  stores,  and 
sundry  baskets  containing  fruits  and  other  small 
wares.  She  then  kindly  attended  to  the  Indian 
children,  certain  dark-skinned  babes,  who,  bound 
upon  their  wooden  cradles,  were  either  set  up 
against  the  trunks  of  the  trees,  or  swung  to 
some  lowly-depending  branch,  there  to  remain 

*  0^6'"  theOtonabee,  just  between  therapids  and  the  island, 
%  nobiS  sau^mcatantisl  bfldgo  haa  boon  bails. 


THE  CANADIAN   CRUSOES. 


297 


helpless  and   uncomplaining  spectators  of  the 
scene. 

Catharine  thought  these  Indian  babes  were 
almost  as  much  to  be  pitied  as  herself,  only  that 
they  were  unconscious  of  their  imprisoned  state, 
having  from  birth  been  used  to  no  better  treat- 
ment, and  moreover  they  were  sure  to  be  re- 
warded by  the  tender  caresses  of  living  mothers 
when  the  season  of  refreshment  an  1  repose  ar- 
rived ;  but  she,  alas  I  was  fiiendless  and  alone, 
an  orphan  girl,  reft  of  father,  mother,  kindred, 
and  friends.  One  Father,  one  Friend,  poor 
Catharine,  thou  hadst,  even  He — the  Father  of 
the  fatherless. 

That  night  when  the  women  and  children 
were  sleeping,  Catharine  stole  out  of  the  wig- 
wam, and  climbed  the  precipitous  bank  beneath 
th?  shelter  of  which  the  lodges  had  been  erected. 
She  found  herself  upon  a  grassy  plain,  studded 
with  majestic  oaks  and  pines,  so  beautifully 
grouped  that  they  might  have  been  planted  by 
the  hand  of  taste  upon  that  velvet  turf.  It  was 
a  delightful  contrast  to  those  dense  dark  forests' 
through  which  for  so  many  miles  the  waters  of 
the  Otonabee  had  flowed  on  monotonously ; 
here  it  was  all  wild  and  free,  dashing  along  like 
a  restive  steed  rejoicing  in  its  liberty,  uncurbed 
and  tameless. 

Tes,  here  it  was  beautiful  i     Ca,th.3tSm  gazed 


w 


r 


298 


THE   CANADIAN   CRUSOKS. 


<!?%t^"4 


with  joy  upon  the  rushing  river,  and  felt  her 
own   heart  expand   as  she   marked   its  rapid 
course,  as  it  bounded  murmuring  and  fretting 
over  its  rocky  bed.     "  Happy,  glorious  watersi 
you  are  not  subject  to  the  power  of  any  living 
creature;  no  canoe  can  ascend  those  surging 
waves ;  I  would  that  I,  too,  like  thee,  wer./"fr.ie  « 
to  pursue  my  onward  way— how  soon  w,.ii!a  I 
flee  away  and  be  at  rest !"     Such  thoughts  per- 
haps might  have  passed  through  the  mind  of 
the  lonely  captive  girl,  as  she  sat  at  the  foot  of 
one  giant  oak,  and  looked  abroad  over  those 
moon-lit  waters,  till,   oppressed  by  the  over- 
whelming  sense  of  the  utter  loneliness  of  the 
scene,  the  timid  girl  with  falt3ring  step  hurried 
down  rrce  more  to  the  wigwams,  silently  crept 
to  the  mat  where  her  bed  was  spread,  and  soon 
forgot  all   her  woes  and  wanderings  in  deep 
tranquil  sleep. 

CatlfigxmG  wondered  that  the  Indians,  in 
erecting  tlieir  lodges,  always  seemed  to  prefer 
the  low,  level,  and  often  swampy  grounds  by 
the  lakes  and  rivers  in  preference  to  the  higher 
and  more  healthy  elevations.  So  disregardful 
are  they  of  this  circumstu.i;«,  thix.  they  do  not 
hesitate  to  sleep  where  ,,if  ^rovntl  is  satuiuted 
with  moisture.  They  will  then  lay  a  temporary 
flooring  of  cedar  or  any  other  bark  beneath 
'^eir  fq^Mather  than  remove  the  tent  a  few 


# 


THE   CANADIAN    CHrsOES. 


299 


feet  higher  up,  where  a  drier  soil  may  always 
be  found.  This  either  arises  from  stupidity  or 
indolence,  perhaps  from  botli,  but  it  is  no  d<^Hibt 
the  cause  of  much  of  the  sickness  that  prevails 
among  them.  With  his  feet  stretched  to  the 
fire  the  Indian  cares  for  nothing  else  when  re- 
posing in  his  wigwam,  and  it  is  useless  to  urge 
the  improvement  that  might  be  made  in  his 
comfort ;  he  listens  with  a  face  of  apathy,  and 
utters  his  everlasting  guttural,  which  sav  es  him 
the  trouble  of  a  more  rational  reply. 

"Snow-bird"   informed    Catharim;    that    the 
lodges  would  not  again  be  removed  for   ^ome 
time,  but  that  the  men  would  hunt  and  tish, 
while  the  squaws  pursued  their  domestic  labours. 
Catharine  perceived  that  the  chief  of  the  la- 
borious part  of  the  work  fell  to  the  share  of  the 
females,  who  were  very  much  more  industrious 
and  active  than  their  husbands;  these,  when 
not^  out  hunting  or  fishing,  were  to  be  seen  re- 
posing in  easy  indolence  under  the  shade  of  the 
trees,  or  before  the  tent  fires,  giving  themselves 
little  concern  about  any  thing  that  was  going  on. 
The  squaws  were  gentle,  humble,  and  submis- 
sive ;  they  bore  without  a  murmur  pain,  labour, 
hunger,  and  fatigue,  and  seemed   to, perform 
every  task  with  patience  and  good   humour. 
They   made  the   canoes,   in   which   the   men 
sometimes  assisted  them,  pitched  thaasita,  con* 


soo 


THE  CANADIAN  CRUSOES. 


verted  the  skins  of  the  animals  which  the  men 
shot  into  clothes,  cooked  the  victuals,  manu- 
factured baskets  of  every  kind,  wove  mats,  dyed 
the  quills  of  the  porcupine,  sewed  the  mocassins, 
and  in  short  performed  a  thousand  tasks  which 
it  would  be  difficult  to  enumerate. 

Of  the  ordinary  household  work,  such  as  is 
familiar  to  European  females,  they  of  course 
knew  nothing;  tb'^y  had  no  linen  to  wash  or 
iron,  no  floors  to  clean,  no  milking  of  cows,  nor 
churning  of  butter. 

Their  carpets  were  fresh  cedar  boughs  spread 
upon  the  ground,  and  only  renewed  when  they 
became  offensively  dirty  from  the  accumulation 
of  fish-bones  and  other  offal,  which  are  care- 
lessly flung  down  during  meals.  Of  furniture 
they  had  none,  their  seat  the  ground,  their  table 
the  same,  their  beds  mats  or  skins  of  animals,— 
such  were  the  domestic  arrangements  of  the  In- 
dian camp.* 

In  the  tent  to  which  Catharine  belonged, 
which  was  that  of  the  widow  and  her  sons' 
a  greater  degree  of  order  and  cleanliness  pre- 
vailed than  in  any  other,  for  Catharine's  natural 
love  of  neatness  and  comfort  induced  her  to 
strew  the  floor  with  cedar  or  hemlock  every 


Much  improvement  has  taken  place  of  late  years  in  the 
domestic  ecjgpy  of  the  Indians,  and  soma  of  th«u-  d-slli"'-. 
«r«  «!«<.«  o«— 6at  gygQ  f^j.  Europeans.  "*' 


we  dean  a 


"i;       »« 


THE   CANADIAN   CRUSOES. 


301 


day  or  two,  and  to  sweep  round  the  front  of  the 
lodge,  removing  all  unseemly  objects  from  its 
vicinity.     She  never  failed  to  wash  herself  in 
the  river,  and  arrange  her  hair  with  the  comb 
that  Louis  had  made  for  her;  and  took  great 
care  of  the  little  child,  which  she  kept  clean  and 
well  fed.     She  loved  this  little  creature,  for  it 
was  soft  and  gentle,  meek  and  playful  as  a  little 
squirrel,  and  the   Indian   mothers   all  looked 
with  kinder  eyes  upon  the  white  maiden,  for 
the  loving  manner  in  which  she  tended  their 
children.    The  heart  of  woman  is  seldom  Cold 
to  those  who  cherish  their  offspring,  and  Catha- 
rine began  to  experience  the  truth,  that  the 
exercise  of  those   human  charities  is  equally 
beneficial  to  those  who  give  and  those  that  re- 
ceive ;  these  things  fall  upon  the  heart  as  dew 
upon   a    thirsty  soil,    giving   and    creating    a 
blessing.      But  we    will    leave   Catharine  for 
short  season,  among  the  lodges  of  the  Indians, 
and  return  to  Hector  and  Louis. 
26 


802 


THE  CANADIAN  CRUSOES. 


CHAPTER   XIV. 

"Cold  and  forsaken,  destitute  of  friends, 
And  all  good  comforts  else,  unless  some  tree 
"Whose  speechless  charity  doth  better  ours 
With  which  the  bitter  east-winds  made  their  sport 
And  sang  through  hourly,  hath  invited  thee 
To  shelter  half  a  day.    Shall  she  be  thus, 
And  I  draw  in  soft  slumbers  ?" 

Beaumont  and  FLxronnn. 

JT  was  near  sunset  before  Hector  and  hi 
■*■  cousin  returned  on  the  evening  of  the  eventfu 
day  that  had  found  Catharine  a  prisoner  or 
Long  Island.     They  had  met  with  good  success 
m  hunting,  and  brought  home  a  fine  half-grown 
fawn,  fat  and  in  good  order.     They  were  sur- 
prised at  finding  the  fire  nearly  extinguished, 
and  no  Catharine  awaiting  their  return.     There' 
it  is  true,  was  the  food  that  she  had  prepared 
for  them,  but  she  was  not  to  be  seen;  sup- 
posing that  she  had  been  tired  of  waiting  for 
them,  and  had  gone  out  to  gather  strawberries, 
they  did  not  at  first  feel  very  anxious,  but  ate 
some  of  the  rice  and   honey,  for  they  were 
hungry  with  long  fasting;    and  taking  some 
Indian  meal  cake  in  their  hands,  they  went  out 
to  call  her  in,  but  no  trace  of  her  was  visible. 
./ -^-.,^„.^  Ki«ii^ic«,  icaiiag  haaz  sne  iiau 


THE   CANADIAN  CRUSOES. 


808 


'  were  sur- 


Bet  off  bj  herself  to  seek  them,  and  had  missed 
her  way  home  again. 

They  hurried  back  to  the  Happy  Valley— she 
was  not  there;  to  Pine-tree  Point— no  trace  of 
her  there;  to  the  edge  of  the  mount  that  over- 
looked the  lake— no,  she  was  not  to  be  seen; 
night  found  them  still  unsuccessful  in  their 
■  search.  Sometimes  they  fancied  that  she  had 
seated  herself  beneath  some  tree  and  fallen 
asleep;  but  no  one  imagined  the  true  cause, 
havmg  seen  nothing  of  the  Indians. 

Again  they  retraced  their  steps  back  to  the 
house;  but  they  found  her  not  there.  They 
continued  their  unavailing  search  till  the  moon 
setting  left  them  in  darkness,  and  they  laid 
down  to  rest,  but  not  to  sleep.  The  first  streak 
of  dawn  saw  them  again  hurrying  to  and  fro, 
calling  in  vain  upon  the  name  of  the  loved  and 
lost  companion  of  their  wanderings.  Desolation 
had  fallen  upon  their  house,  and  the  evil  which 
of  all  others  they  had  most  feared,  had  happened 
to  them. 

Indiana,  whose  vigilance  was  more  untiring, 
for  she  yielded  not  so  easily  to  grief  and 
despair,  now  returned  with  the  intelligence  that 
she  had  discovered  the  Indian  trail,  through 
the  big  ravine  to  the  lake  shore ;  she  had  found 
the  remains  of  a  wreath  of  oak  leaves  which 
had  been  woven  by  Catharine,  an4  probably 


804 


THE   CANADIAN  CRUSOES. 


been  about  her  hair ;  and  she  had  seen  the  mark 
of  feet,  Indian  feet,  on  the  soft  clay,  at  the  edge 
of  the  lake,  and  the  furrowing  of  the  shingles 
by  the  pushing  ofFof  a  canoe.     It  was  evident 
that  she  had  been  taken  away  from  her  home 
by  these  people.      Poor  Louis  gave   way  to 
transports  of  grief  and  despair ;  he  knew  the 
wreath,  it  was  such  as  Catharine  often  made  for 
herself;  and  Mathilde,  and  petite  Louise,  and 
Marie;    his  mother  had   taught  her  to   make 
them ;  they  were  linked  together  by  the  stalks, 
and  formed  a  sort  of  leaf  chain.     The  remem- 
brance of  many  of  their  joyous  days  of  child- 
hood  made  Louis    weep   sorrowful  tears   for 
happy  days,  never  to  return  again;  he  placed 
the  torn  relic  in  his  breast,  and  sadly  turned 
away  to  hide   his  grief  from  Hector  and  the 
Indian  girl. 

Indiana  now  proposed  searching  the  island 
for  further  traces,  but  advised  wariness  in  so 
doing.      They  saw,   however,   no  smoke  nor 
canoes.     The  Indians  had  departed  while  they 
were    searching  the  ravines  and  jflats  round 
Mount  Ararat,  and  the  lake  told  no  tales.    The 
following  day  they  ventured  to  land  on  Long 
Island,  and  on  going  to   the  north  side  saw 
evident   traces   of  a    temporary    encampment 
having  been  made.    This  was  all  they  could  do, 
further  search  was  unavailing;    as  they  found 


THE   CANADIAN   CRUSOES. 


sen  the  mark 
at  the  edge 
the  shingles 
was  evident 
1  her  home 
ve   way  to 
I  knew  the 
m  made  for 
[iouise,  and 
r  to    make 
■  the  stalks, 
'he  remem- 
's  of  child- 
tears    for 
he  placed 
ily  turned 
•r  and  the 

the  island 
ness  in  so 
moke  nor 
(rhile  they 
ats  round 
lies.     The 
i  on  Long 
side  saw 
Jampment 
could  do, 
ey  found 


305 


no  trace  of  any  violence  having  been  committed, 
they  still  cherished  hopes  that  no  personal  harm 
had  been  done  to  the  poor  captive.  It  was 
Indiana's  opinion  that  though  a  prisoner  she 
was  unhurt,  as  the  Indians  rarely  killed  women 
and  children,  unless  roused  to  do  so  by  some 
signal  act  on  the  part  of  their  enemies,  when 
an  exterminating  spirit  of  revenge  induced  them 
to  kill  and  spare  not;  but  where  no  offence  had 
been  offered,  they  were  not  likely  to  take  the 
life  of  an  helpless,  unoffending  female. 

The  Indian  is  not  cruel  for  the  wanton  love 
of  blood,  but  to  gratify  revenge  for  some  injury 
done  to  himself,  or  to  his  tribe;  but  it  was 
dif^cult  to  still  the  terrible  apprehensions  that 
haunted  the  minds  of  Louis  and  Hector.  They 
spent  much  time  in  searching  the  northern 
shores  and  the  distant  islands,  in  the  vain  hope 
of  finding  her,  as  they  still  thought  the  camp 
might  have  been  moved  to  the  opposite  side  of 
the  lake. 

Inconsolable  for  the  loss  of  their  beloved 
companion.  Hector  and  Louis  no  longer  took 
interest  in  what  was  going  on;  they  hardly 
'troubled  themselves  to  weed  the  Indian  corn 
in  which  they  had  taken  such  great  delight ;  all 
now  seemed  to  them  flat,  stale,  and  unprofitable ; 
they  wandered  listlessly  to  and  fro,  silent  and 
ead ;  the  sunshine  had  departed  from  their  little 

26* 


• 


809 


THE   CANADIAN  CRUSOES. 


:<^]M 


dwelling;  they  ate  little,  and  talked  less,  each 
seemed  absorbed  in  his  own  painful  reveries. 

In  vain  the  gentle  Indian  girl   strove    to 
revive  their  drooping  spirits ;  they  seemed  insen- 
sible to  her  attentions,  and  often  left  her  for 
hours  alone.     They  returned  one  evening  about 
the  usual  hour  of  sunset,  and  missed  their  meek, 
uncomplaining  guest  from  the  place  she  wa^ 
wont  to  occupy.     They  called,  but  there  was 
none  to  reply— she  too  was  gone.     They  hur- 
ried to  the  shore  just  time  enough  to  see  the 
canoe  diminishing  to  a  mere  speck  upon  the 
waters,  in  the  direction  of  the  mouth  of  the 
river;  they  called  to  her  in  accents  of  despair, 
to  return,  but  the  wind  wafted  back  no  sound  to 
their  ears,  and  soon  the  bark  was  lost  to  sight, 
and  they  sat  them  down  disconsolately  on  the 
shore. 

"What  is  she  doing?"  said  Hector;  "this  is 
cruel  to  abandon  us  thus." 

"She  was  going  up  the  river,  with  the  hope 
of  bringing  us  some  tidings  of  Catharine,"  said 
Louis. 

"  How  came  you  to  think  that  such  is  her  in- 
tention ?" 

"  I  heard  her  say  the  other  day  that  she  would 
go  and  bring  her  back,  or  die." 

"What!  do  you  think  she  would  risk  the 


ed  less,  each 
[  reveries. 
1  strove  to 
eemed  insen- 
left  her  for 
^ening  about 

their  meek, 
ice  she  was 
t  there  was 

They  hur- 
t  to  see  the 
k  upon  the 
>uth  of  the 

of  despair, 
no  sound  to 
Mt  to  sight, 
telj  on  the 

)r;  "this  is 

h.  the  hope 
arine,"  said 

h  is  her  in- 

t  she  would 

i  risk  the 


THE   CANADIAN  CRUSOES. 


807 


vengeance  of  the  old  chief  whose  life  she  at- 
tempted  to  take  ?" 

"She  is  a  brave  girl ;  she  does  not  fear  pain 
or  death  to  serve  those  she  loves  I" 

"  Alas !"  said  Hector,  "  she  will  perish  miser- 
abJy  and  to  no  avail ;  they  would  not  restore  our 
dear  sister,  even  at  the  sacrifice  of  Indiana's 

"How  can  she,  unprotected  and  alone,  dare 
such  penis?  Why  did  she  not  tell  us?  we 
would  have  shared  her  danger." 

"  She  feared  for  our  lives  more  than  for  her 
own ;  that  poor  Indian  giri  has  a  noble  heart. 
I  care  not  now  what  befalls  us;  we  have  lost 
all  that  made  life  dear  to  us,"  said  Louis  gloom- 
iiy,^smkmg  his  head  between  his  knees. 

"Hush,  Louis ;  you  are  older  than  I,  and 
ought  to  bear  these  trials  with  more  courage 
It  was  our  own  fault,  Indiana's  leaving  us :  we 
left  her  so  much  alone  to  pine  after  her  lost 
companion ;  she  seemed  to  think  that  we  did 
not  care  for  her.  Poor  Indiana !  she  must  have 
felt  lonely  and  sad." 

"I  tell  you  what  we  will  do,  Hec,--make  a 
log  canoe.  I  found  an  old  battered  one  lyina 
on  the  shore,  not  far  from  Pine-tree  Point.  Ve 
have  an  axe  and  a  tomahawk,-what  should 
umder  us  from  making  one  like  it?" 

''  True !  we  will  set'about  it  to-morrow  » 


608 


THE  CANADIAN  CRUSOES. 


"  I  wish  it  wero  morning,  that  we  might  set  to 
work  to  cut  down  a  good  pine  for  the  purpose. 
^  "  As  soon  aa  it  is  done,  we  will  go  up  the 
river;    any  thing   is  better  than  this  dreadful 
suspense  and  inaction." 

The  early  dawn  saw  the  two  cousins  busily 
engaged  chopping  at  a  tree  of  suitable  dimen- 
sions,  and  they  worked  hard  all  that  day,  and 
the  next,  and  the  next,  before  the  canoe  was 
hollowed  out ;  and  then,  owing  to  their  incxpe- 
rience  and  the  bluntness  of  their  tools,  their  first 
attempt  proved  abortive ;  it  was  too  heavy  at 
one  end,  and  did  not  balance  well  in  the  water. 
Louis,  who  had  been  quite  sure  of  success, 
was  disheartened  ;  not  so  Hector. 

"  Do  not  let  us  give  it  up ;  my  maxim  is  per- 
severance;  let  us  try  again,  and  again— aye  I 
and  a  third  and  a  fourth  time.   I  say,  never  give 
it  up ;  that  is  the  way  to  succeed  at  last." 
"  You  have  ten  times  my  patience,  Hec." 
"Yes!  but  you  are  more  ingenious  than  I, 
and  are  excellent  at  starting  an  idea." 

"  We  are  a  good  pair  then  for  partnership." 
"  We  will  begin  anew ;  and  this  time  I  hope 
we  shall  profit  by  our  past  blunders." 

"  Who  would  imagine  that  it  is  now  more 
than  a  month  since  we  lost  Catharine  I" 

"I  know  it,  a  long,  long,  weary  month," 
replied  Louis,  and  he  struck  his  axe  sharply 


s. 

3  might  set  to 
he  purpose. 
1  go  up  the 
his  dreadful 

usins  busilj 
able  dimen- 
lat  day,  and 
!  canoe  was 
leir  inoxpe- 
Is,  their  first 
)o  heavy  at 
a  the  water, 
of  success, 

ixim  is  per- 
gain — aje  I 

never  give 
last." 

Hec." 
us  than  I, 

nership." 
me  I  hope 

now  moro 

1" 

Y  month," 

lC  slis.rply 


THE   CANADIAN   CRUSOES. 


809 


into  the  bark  of  the  pine  as  he  spoke,  and 
remained  silent  for  some  minutes.  The  boys, 
wearied  by  chopping  down  the  tree,  rested 
from  their  work,  and  sat  down  on  the  side 
of  the  condemned  canoe  to  resume  their  con- 
versation. Suddenly  Louis  grasped  Hector's 
arm,  and  pointed  to  a  bark  canoe  that  appeared 
making  for  the  westernmost  point  of  the  island. 
Hector  started  to  his  feet  exclaiming,  "It  is 
Indiana  returned!" 

"Nonsense  I  Indiana  I— it  is  no  such  thing. 
Look  you,  it  is  a  stout  man  in  a  blanket  coat." 

"The  Indians?"  asked  Hector  inquiringly. 

"  I  do  not  think  he  looks  like  an  Indian ;  but 
let  us  watch.     What  is  he  doing  ?" 

"  Fishing.  See  now,  he  has  just  caught  a  fine 
bass — another — he  has  great  luck — now  he  is 
pushing  the  canoe  ashore." 

"  That  man  does  not  move  like  an  Indian — 
hark  1  he  is  whistling.  I  ought  to  know  that 
tune.     It  sounds  like  the  old  chanson  my  father 


used   to  sing;"  and  Louis, 


raismg 


his  voice, 


began  to  sing  the  words  of  an  old  French  Cana- 
dian song,  which  we  will  give  in  the  English 
as  we  heard  it  sung  by  an  old  lumberer. 

"  Down  by  those  banks  where  the  pleasant  waters  flow, 
Through  the  wild  woods  we'll  wander,  and  we'll  chase  th« 
buffalo. 

And  we'll  chase  the  buflfalo." 


810 


THE  CANADIAN  CRUSOiSS. 


"Hush  Louis  I  you  will  bring  the  man  over 
to  us,"  said  Hector. 

"  The  very  thing  I  am  trying  to  do,  mon  ami. 
Ihis  IS  our  country,  and  that  may  be  his;  but 
we  are  lords  here,  and  tv/o  to  one-ao  I  think  he 
will  not  be  likely  to  treat  us  ill,  I  am  a  man 
now,  and  so  are  you,  and  he  ia  bat  onp  cq  he 
must  mmd  how  he  affronts  -ig,"  T3p!ied'  Louis 
iaughmg. 

"  I  wish  the  old  fellow  v.as  ir^clined  to  be 
Bocable.  Hark,  if  he  is  not  singing  now  I  aye, 
and  the  very  chorus  of  the  old  song,»_and  Louis 
raised  his  voice  to  its  highest  pitch  as  he  re- 
peated, 

*'  •  Through  the  wil  J  broods  we'll  wander, 
And  we'll  chase  the  buffalo— 
Aud  we'll  chase  the  buffalo.' 

What  a  pity  I  have  forgotten  the  rest  of  that 
dear  old  song  I  I  used  to  listen  with  open  ears 
to  It  when  I  was  a  boy.  I  never  thought  to 
hear  it  again,  and  to  hear  it  here  of  all  places  in 
the  world  1" 

"  Come,  let  us  go  on  with  our  work,"  said 
Hector,  wit^  something  like  impatience  in  his 
voice ;  and  .he  strokes  of  his  axe  fell  once  more 
in  regular  succession  on  the  log;  but  Louis's 
eye  was  still  on  the  mysterious  fisher,  whom 

ne    could     discern     Innnormnr    ^„     *!,,      , 

o"'o  ■^«   tuc  grass  ana 


THE  CANADIAN  CRUSOES. 


811 


e  man  orer 


rasa  ana 


smoking  h,s  pipe.  "I  do  not  think  he  sees  or 
hears  us,'  said  Louis  to  himself,  "but  I  dunk 
111  manage  to  bring  him  over  soon;"-and  he 
set  himself  bus)ly  to  work  to  serape  up  the 
loose  chips  and  shavings,  and  soon  began  to 
strike  fire  with  his  kuife  and  flint. 

;;  What  are  you  about,  Louie  ?"  asked  Hector. 

"Lighting  a  fire." 

"I  know  that,  but  I  want  to  attract  the  notice 
ot  yonder  tiresome  fisherman." 

"And  perhaps  bring  a  swarm  of  savages 
down  upon  us  who  may  be  lurking  in  the 
bushes  of  the  island." 

"Pooh,  pooh  I  Hec;-there  are  no  savages. 

iZ^T  i'^^\P^'''--^y  thing  is  belter 
than  this  horrible  solitude."  And  Louis  fanned 
the  flame  into  a  rapid  blaze,  and  heaped  up  the 
light  dry  branches  till  it  soared  up  among  the 
bushes.  Louis  watched  the  effect  of  his  fire 
and  rubbed  his  hands  gleefully  as  the  bark  ca- 
noe was  pushed  off  from  the  island,  and  a  few 
vigorous  strokes  of  the  paddle  sent  it  dancing 
over  the  surface  of  the  calm  lake. 

Louis  waved  his  cap  above  his  head  with  a 
ciieer  of  welcome  as  the  vessel  lightly  glided 
into  the  little  cove,  near  the  spot  where  the  boys 
were  cuoppmg,   and   a  stout-framed,  weather 


«■«■ 


812 


TH£  CANADIAN    CRUSOE^ 


beaten  man,  m  a  blanket  coat,  also  faded  and 
weather-beaten,  with  a  red  worsted  sash  and 
worn  mocassins,  sprung  upon  one  of  the  timbers 
of  Louib's  old  raft,  and  gazed  with  a  keen  eye 
upon  the  lads.  Each  party  silently  regarded 
the  other.  A  few  rapid  interrogations  from  the 
stranger,  uttered  in  the  broad  patois  of  the  Lower 
Province,  were  answered  in  a  mixture  of  broken 
French  and  English  by  Louis. 

A  change  like  lightning  passed  over  the 
face  of  the  old  man  as  he  cried  out — "  Louis 
Perron,  son  of  my  ancient  compagnon  I" 

"Ouil  ouil" — with  eyes  sparkling  through 
tears  of  joy,  Louis  threw  himself  into  the  broad 
breast  of  Jacob  Morelle,  his  father's  friend  and 
old  lumbering  comrade. 

"  Hector,  son  of  la  belle  Catiiarine  Perron," 
— and  Hector,  i^n  his  turn,  received  the  affec- 
tionate embrace  of  the  warm-hearted  old  man. 

"  Who  would  have  thought  of  meeting  with 
the  children  of  my  old  comrade  here  at  the 
shore  of  the  Eice  Lake  ?— oh  !  what  a  joyful 
meeting !" 

Jacob  had  a  hundred  questions  to  ask :  Whera 
were  their  parents  ?  did  they  live  on  the  Plains 
now  ?  how  long  was  it  since  they  had  left  the 
Cold  Springs?  were  there  any  more  little  ones? 
and  so  forth. 

The  boys  looked  sorrowfullv  at  each  other, 


THE   CANADIAN  CRUSOES. 


813 


t  each  other. 


At  last  the  old  man  stopped  for  want  of  breath, 
and  remarked  their  sad  looks. 

"What,  mcs  nis,  are  your  parents  dead? 
Ah  well  I  I  did  not  think  to  have  outlived 
them  ;  but  they  liave  not  led  such  healthy  lives 
as  old  Jacob  Morelle— hunting,  fishing,  lumber- 
ing,  trapping,— those  are  the  things  to  harden 
a  man  and  make  him  as  tough  as  a  stock-fish— 
eh  I  mes  enfans,  is  it  not  so  ?" 

Hector  then  told  the  old  lumberer  how  long 
they  had  been  separated  from  their  families,  and 
by  what  sad  accident  they  had  been  deprived  of 
the  society  of  their  beloved  sister.     When  they 
brought  their  narrative  down  to  the  disappear- 
ance  of  Catharine,  the   whole  soul  of  the  old 
trapper  seemed  moved— he  started  from  the  log 
on  which  they  were  sitting,  and  with  one  of  his 
national  asseverations,  declared  "  That  la  bonne 
fille  should  not  remain  an  hour  longer  than  he 
could  help  among  those  savage  wretches.     Yes, 
he,  her  father's  old  friend,  would  go  up  the  river 
and  bring  her  back  in  safety,  or  leave  his  grey 
scalp  behind  him  among  the  wigwams." 

"  It  is  too  late,  Jacob,  to  think  of  starting  to- 
day,"  said  Hector.  "Come  home  with  us,  and 
eat  some  food,  and  rest  a  bit." 

"No  need  of  that,  my  son.  I  have  a  lot  of 
fish  here  in  the  canoe,  and  there  is  an  old  shan- 
ty  on  the  island  yonder,  if  it  be  still  standing, 

27 


mimiSa^m 


814 


THE  CANADIAN   CRUSOES. 


— the  Trapper's  Fort,  I  used  to  call  it  some  years 
ago.  We  will  go  off  to  the  island  and  look 
for  it." 

"No  need  for  that,"  replied  Louis,  "for 
though  I  can  tell  you  the  old  place  is  still  in 
good  repair,  for  we  used  it  this  very  spring  as  a 
boiling-house  for  our  maple  sap,  yet  we  have  a 
better  place  of  our  own  nearer  at  hand — just 
two  or  three  hundred  yards  over  the  brow  of 
yonder  hill.  So  come  with  us,  and  you  shall 
have  a  good  supper,  and  bed  to  lie  upon." 

"  And  you  have  all  these,  boys  1"  said  Jacob, 
opening  his  merry  black  eyes,  as  they  came  in 
sight  of  the  little  log-house  and  the  field  of  green 
corn. 

The  old  man  praised  the  boys  for  their  in- 
dustry and  energy.  "Ha!  here  is  old  Wolfe  too," 
as  the  dog  roused  himself  from  the  hearth 
and  gave  one  of  his  low  grumbling  growls. 
He  had  grown  dull  and  dreamy,  and  instead 
of  going  ourt  as  usual  with  the  young  hunters, 
he  would  lie  for  hours  dozing  before  the  dying 
embers  of  the  fire.  He  pined  for  the  loving 
hand  that  used  to  pat  his  sides,  and  caress  his 
ehaggy  neck,  and  pillow  his  great  head  upon 
her  lap,  or  suffer  him  to  put  his  huge  paws  upon 
her  shoulders,  while  he  licked  her  hands  and 
face ;  but  she  was  gone,  and  the  Indian  girl 
was  gone,  and  the  light  of  the  shauty  had 


i. 

it  some  years 
[d  and  look 

Louis,  "  for 
;e  is  still  in 
7  spring  as  a 
it  we  have  a 
hand — just 
the  brow  of 
id  you  shall 
upon." 
'  said  Jacob, 
hey  came  in 
field  of  green 

for  their  in- 
i  Wolfe  too," 

the  hearth 
ling  growls. 

and  instead 
ang  hunters, 
:e  the  dying 
r  the  loving 
id  caress  his 
t  head  upon 
e  paws  upon 
r  hands  and 

Indian  girl 

shanty  had 


THE  CANADIAN  CRUSOES.  315 

That  evening  aa  Jacob  aat  on  the  three-legged 
stoo    smoking  his  short  Indian  pipe,  he  aSn 

oTefanrth'7'°'^^*"'^<'^''''---^^^^ 

"At  least  twenty  miles,  perhaps  fifty,  for  it  is 
a  long,  long  time  now  since  we  left  horie  three 
summers  ago."  '  "®* 

bv'ZriL'"'^''  T"  r"  ■""  ■^'^°°  *«tence 
man        Now  I  know  the  distance  through  the 

Hies,  ,t  cannot  be  more  than  seven  or  eight  miles 
—no,  nor  that  either."  * 

poslleTsr™'^  *t  '^^    "  "^'^*-  =^  *« 
possible?    So  near,  and  yet  to  us  the  distance 

mls™r'"''°"«'^''^«'-''-''-^ 

part Ifll  ^°t"  ''''"'  ^^''  *"'  '^  "'^  P'°™ting 

and  I  w,';      n      ."^'  ""''''"^  »y  comrades, 
and  I  was  well-mgh  starving,  when  I  chanced 

to  come  Dack  to  the  snot  wh«r.  ,.,„ .-j        , 

I  verily  believe  I  had'not  be"e7tw;  i;a::"dL:;° 


316 


THE   CANADIAN   CRUSOES. 


the  whole  eight  days  that  I  was  moving  round 
and  round,  and  backward  and  forward,  just  in  a 
circle,  because,  d'ye  see,  I  followed  the  sun,  and 
that  led  me  astray  the  whole  time." 

"Was  that  when  you  well-nigh  roasted  the 
bear?"  asked  Louis,  with  a  sly  glance  at 
Hector. 

"Well,  no;  that  was  another  time;  your 
father  was  out  with  me  then."  And  old  Jacob, 
knocking  the  ashes  out  of  his  pipe,  settled  him- 
self to  recount  the  adventure  of  the  bear.  Hec- 
tor, who  had  heard  Louis's  edition  of  the  roast 
bear,  was  almost  impatient  at  bemg  forced  to 
listen  to  old  Jacob's  long-winded  history,  which 
included  about  a  dozen  other  stories,  all  tagged 
on  to  this,  like  links  of  a  lengthened  chain ;  and 
was  not  sorry  when  the  old  lumberer,  taking  his 
red  nightcap  out  of  his  pocket,  at  last  stretched 
himself  out  on  a  buffalo  skin  that  he  had  brought 
up  from  the  canoe,  and  soon  was  soundly 
sleeping. 

The  morning  was  yet  grey  when  the  old  man 
shook  himself  from  his  slumber,  which,  if  not 
deep,  had  been  loud ;  and  after  having  roused  up 
a  good  fire,  which,  though  the  latter  end  of  July, 
at  that  dewy  hour,  was  not  unwelcome,  he  lighted 
his  pipe,  and  began  broiling  a  fish  on  the  coals 
for  his  breakfast ;  and  was  thus  engaged  when 
Hector  and  Louis  wakened. 


ES. 

noving  round 

;vard,  just  in  a 

i  the  sun,  and 
» 

• 

jh  roasted  the 
ily  glance    at 

r  time;  your 
ind  old  Jacob, 
e,  settled  him- 
le  bear.  Hec- 
n  of  the  roast 
3ing  forced  to 
history,  which 
'ies,  all  tagged 
led  chain;  and 
3rer,  taking  his 
t  last  stretched 
le  had  brought 
was   soundly 

m  the  old  man 
,  which,  if  not 
ving  roused  up 
ter  end  of  July, 
ome,  he  lighted 
sh  on  the  coals 
engaged  when 


THE  CANADIAN  CRUSOES. 


817 


^    "  Mes  enfans,"  said  Jacob,  "  I  have  been  turn- 
ing over  in  my  mind  about  your  sister,  and  have 
come  to  the  resolution  of  going  up  the  river  alone 
without  any  one  to  accompany  me.     I  know  the 
Indians ;  they  are  a  suspicious  people,  they  deal 
much  m  stratagems,  and  they  are  apt  to  expect 
treachery  in  others.     Perhaps  they  have  had 
some  reason ;  for  the  white  men  have  not  always 
kept  good  faith  with  them,  which  I  take  to  be 
the  greater  shame,  as  they  have  God's  laws  to 
guide-  and  teach  them  to  be  true  and  just  in  their 
dealing,  which  the  poor  benighted  heathen  have 
not,  the  more's  the  pity.     Now,  d'ye  see,  if  the 
Indians  see  two  stout  lads  with  me,  they  will  say 
to  themselves,  there  may  be  more  left  behind 
skulking  in  ambush.    So  boys,  I  go  to  the  camp 
alone;  and,  God  willing,  I  will  bring  back  your 
sister,  or  die  in  the  attempt.    I  shall  not  go 
single-handed;   see,  I  have  here  scarlet-cloth, 
beads,  and  powder  and  shot.     I  carry  no  fire- 
water ;  it  is  a  sin  and  a  shame  to  tempt  these 
poor  wretches  to  their   own  destruction;    it 
makes  fiends  of  them  at  once." 

It  was  to  no  purpose  that  Hector  and  Louis 
passionately  besought  old  Jacob  to  let  them 
share  the  dangers  of  the  expedition ;  the  old 
man  was  firm,  and  would  not  be  moved  from 
his  purpose. 

"Look  you,  boys,"  he  said,   "if  J  do  not 
27* 


818 


THE  CANADIAN  CBUSOES. 


return  by  the  beginning  of  the  rice-harvest,  you 
may  suppose  that  evil  has  befallen  me  and  the 
girl ;  then  I  would  advise  you  to  take  care  for 
your  own  safety,  for  if  they  do  not  respect  my 
grey  head,  neither  will  they  spare  your  young 
ones.     In  such  case,  make  yourselves  a  good 
canoe — a  dug-out*  will  do— and  go  down  the 
lake  till  you  are  stopped  by  the  rapids  ;t  make 
a  portage  there ;  but  as  your  craft  is  too  weighty 
to  carry  far,  e'en  leave  her  and  chop  out  another, 
and  go  down  to  the  I^'all  ;t  then,  if  you  do  not 
like  to  be  at  any  further  trouble,  you  may  make 
out  your  journey  to  the  bay§  on  foot,  coasting 
along  the  nver;   there  you  will  fall  in  with 
settlers  who  know  old  Jacob  Morelle — aye,  and 
your  two  fathers — ^and  they  will  put  you  in  the 
way  of  returning  home.    If  I  were  to  try  ever  so 
to  put  you  on  the  old  Indian  trail  in  the  wooda, 
though  I  know  it  myself  right  well,  you  might 
be  lost,  and  maybe  never  return  home  again.    I 
leave  my  traps  and  my  rifle  with  you ;  I  shall 
not  need  them :  if  I  come  back  I  may  claim  the 
things ;  if  not,  they  are  yours.    So  now  I  Lave 
said  my  say,  had  my  talk,  as  the  Indians  say. 
Farewell.     But  first  let  us  pray  to  Him  who 
alone  can  bring  this  matter  to  a  safe  issue." 
And  the  old  man  devoutly  kneeled  down,  and 


•  Log-canoo, 


I  H»©!cy's  Falls,  on  the  Trent 


t  Crook's  Rapidfc 
§  Bay  ofQuiato. 


THE  CANADIAN  CRUSOES. 


319 


prayed  for  a  blessing  on  his  voyage  and  on  those 
he  was  leaving;  and  then  hastened  down  to  the 
beach,  and  the  boys,  with  full  hearts,  watched 
the  canoe  till  it  was  lost  to  their  sight  on  the 
wide  waters  of  the  lake. 


820 


THE   CANADIAN  CRUS0E8. 


CHAPTER  XV. 

"  Where  wild  in  woods  tlie  lordly  savag*  ran.  • 

llTHAT  changes  a  few  years  make  in  places  I 
'  »  That  spot  over  which  the  Indians  roved, 
free  of  all  control,  is  now  a  large  and  wide- 
spreading  town.  Thob  glorious  old  trees  are 
fast  fading  away,  the  memory  only  of  them  re- 
mains to  some  of  the  first  settlers,  who  saw  them 
twenty-five  years  ago,  shadowing  the  now  open 
market-place ;  the  fine  old  oaks  have  disappear- 
ed, but  the  green  emerald  turf  that  they  once 
shaded  still  remains.  The  wild  rushing  river 
still  pours  down  its  resistless  spring  floods,  but 
its  banks  have  been  levelled,  and  a  noble  bridge 
now  spans  its  rapid  waters.  It  has  seen  the  de- 
struction of  two  log-bridges,  but  this  new,  sub- 
stantial, imposing  structure  bids  fair  to  stand 
from  generation  to  generation.  The  Indian  re- 
gards it  with  stupid  wonder :  he  is  no  mechanic ; 
his  simple  canoe  of  birch  bark  is  his  only  notion 
of  communication  from  one  shore  to  another. 
The  townspeople  and  country  settlers  view  it 
with  pride  and  satisfaction,  as  a  means  of  com- 
merce aji\x  agricultural  advantage.     Luat  lonely 


OES. 


7. 

iavag«  ran.  • 

nake  in  places ! 
Indians  roved, 
irge  and  wide- 
}  old  trees  are 
ily  of  them  re- 
,  who  saw  them 
I  the  now  open 
aave  disappear- 
that  they  once 
[  rushing  river 
ring  floods,  but 
I  a  noble  bridge 
las  seen  the  de- 
this  new,  sub- 
3  fair  to  stand 
The  Indian  re- 
s  no  mechanic ; 
his  only  notion 
)re  to  another, 
settlers  view  it 
means  of  com- 


THE   CANADIAN   CRUSOES. 


821 


■ 


I 


hill,  from  which  Catharine  viewed   the  rapid 
flowing  river  by  moonlight,  and  marvelled  at 
its  beauty  and  its  power,  is  now  Court-house 
Hill,  the  seat  of  justice  for  the  district,— a  fine, 
Bubstantial  edifice ;  its  shining  roof  and  pillared 
portico  may  be  seen  from  every  approach  to  the 
town.     That  grey  village  spire,  with  its  groves 
of  oak  and  pine,  how  invitingly  it  stands  I  those 
trees  that  embower  it,  once  formed  a  covert  for 
the   deer.     Yonder   scattered  groups  of   neat 
white  cottages,  each  with  its  garden  of  flowers 
and  fruit,  are  spread  over  what  was  once  an 
open  plain,  thinly  planted  with  poplar,  oaks, 
and  pine.     See,  there  is  another  church ;  and 
nearer,  towards  the  west  end  of  the  town,  on  that 
fine  slope,  stands  another,  and  another.     That 
sound  that  falls  upon  the  ear  is  not  the  rapids 
of  the  river,  but  the  dash  of  mill  wheels  and 
mill  dams,  worked  by  the  waters  of  that  lovely 
winding  brook  which  has  travelled  far  through 
woods  and  deep  forest  dingles  to  yield  its  tribute 
to  the  Otonabee.     There  is  the  busy  post-office, 
on  the  velvet  carpet  of  turf;  a  few  years,  yes, 
even  a  few  years  ago,  that  spot  was  a  grove  of 
trees.     The  neat  log  building  that  stood  then 
alone  there  was  inhabited  by  the  Government 
Agent,  now  Colonel  Macdonald,  and  groups  of 
Indians  might  be  seen  congregated  on  the  green, 
or  reposing  under  the  trees,  forming  meet  sub^ 


4»' 


822 


THE   CANADIAN   CRUSOES. 


jects  for  the  painter's  pencil,  for  he  knew  them 
well,  and  was  kind  to  them. 

The   Indian   only  visits  the  town,  once  tho 
favourite  site  for  his  hunting-lodge,  to  receive 
his  annual   government  presents,  to  trade  his 
simple  wares  of  basket  and  birch-bark  work,  to 
bring  in  his  furs,  or  maybe  to  sell  his  fish  or 
venison,  and  take  back  such  store  goods  as  his 
intercourse  with  his  white  brethren  has  made 
him  consider  necessary  to  his  comforts,  to  sup- 
ply wants  which  have   now  become   indispen- 
sable,   befrre    undreamed    of.      He    traverses 
those  populous,  busy  streets,  he   looks   round 
upon    dwellings,    and   gay  clothes,  and   equi- 
pages, and  luxuries  which  he  can  neither  obtain 
nor  imitate,  and  feels  his  spirit  lowered; — he 
is  no  more  a  people— the  tide  of  intellect  has 
borne  him  down,  and  swept  his  humble  wig- 
wam from   the    earth.     He,  too,  is  changing:' 
he  now  dwells,  for  the  most  part,  in  villages, 
in  houses  that  cannot  be  moved  away  at  his 
will   or  necessity;  he   has   become  a  tiller  of 
the  ground,  his  hunting    expeditions   are  pre- 
scribed within  narrow  bounds,  the  forest  is  dis- 
appearing, the  white  man  is  every  where.     The 
Indian   must  also  yield  to  circumstances ;  he 
submits    patiently.     Perhaps   he    murmurs  in 
secret;  but  his  voice   is  low,  it  is  not  heard; 
he  has  no  representative  in  the  senate  to  take 


I. 
knew  them 

■n,  once  tho 
,  to  receive 
to  trade  his 
,rk  work,  to 
his  fish  or 
^oods  as  his 
I  has  made 
Drts,  to  sup- 
e   indispen- 
3    traverses 
>oks    round 
and    equi- 
ther  obtain 
fv^ered ; — he 
ntellect  has 
limbic  wig- 
changing  :' 
in  villages, 
way  at  his 
a  tiller  of 
IS  are  pre- 
)rest  is  dis- 
here.     The 
tances  ;  he 
lurmurs  in 
not  heard; 
ate  to  take 


THE  CANADIAN  CKUSOES. 


823 


I  if 

I I 


interest  in  his  welfare,  to  plead  in  his  behalf. 

He  is  anxious,  too,    for  the   improvement   of 

his   race:    he    gladly  listens  to   the  words  of 

life,    and    sees    with   joy   his   children    being 

brought    up  in    the   fear   and  nurture  of  the 

Lord;    he    sees  with   pride  some  of  his  own 

blood  going  forth  on   the   mission  of  love  to 

other  distant  tribes;    he  is   proud  of  being  a 

Christian;  and  if  there  be  some  that  still  look 

back  to  the  freedom  of  former  years,  and  talk 

of  "the  good  old  times,"  when  they  wandered 

free  as   the  winds   and  waters   through  those 

giant   woods,  they  are   fast  fading  away.     A 

new  race  is  rising  up,  and  the  old  hunter  wiU 

soon  become  a  being  unknown  in  Canada. 

There  is  an  old  gnarled  oak  that  stands,  or 
lately  stood,  on  the  turfy  bank,  just  behind  the 
old  Government-house,  (as  the  settlers  called 
It,)  looking  down  the  precipitous  cliff  on  the 
river  and  the  islands.  The  Indians  called  it 
"  the  white  girl's  rest,"  for  it  waa  there  that 
Catharine  delighted  to  sit,  above  the  noise  and 
bustle  of  the  camp,  to  sing  her  snatches  of  old 
Scottish  songs,  or  pray  the  captive  exile's  prayer, 
unheard  and  unseen. 

The  setting  sun  was  casting  long  shadows  of 
oak  and  weeping  elm  athwart  the  waters  of  the 
river ;  the  light  dip  of  the  paddle  had  ceased  on 

-        J „     Lrwyfiug     Vi     UUUUUS     aUQ    ii£i-iiM.# 


II 


824 


THE   CANADIAN^  CRUSOES. 


Stirring  sounds  from  the  lodges  came  softened 
to  the  listening  ear.     The  hunters  had  come  in 
with  the  spoils  of  a  successful  chase ;  the  -wicr. 
warn  fires  are  flickering  and  crackling,  sending 
up   their  light  columns   of  thin,  blue  smoke 
among  the  trees ;  and  now  a  goodly  portion  of 
venison  is  roasting  on  the  forked  sticks  before 
the  fires.     Each  lodge  has  its  own   cooking 
utensils.     That  jar  embedded  in  the  hot  embera 
contains  sassafras  tea,  an  aromatic  beverage,  in 
which  the  squaws  delight  when  they  are  so  for- 
tunate as  to  procure  a  supply.     This  has  been 
brought  from  the  Credit,  far  up  in  the  west,  by 
a  family  who  have  come  down  on  a  special 
mission  from  some  great  chief  to  his  brethren  on 
the  Otonabee,  and  the  squaws  have  cooked  some 
in  honour  of  the  guests.     That  pot  that  sends 
up  such  ar  savoury  steam  is  venison  pottage,  or 
soup,  .or  stew,  or  any  name  you  choose  to  give 
the  Indian  mess  that  is  concocted  of  venison, 
wild  rice,  and  herbs.     Those  tired  hounds  that 
lay  stretched  before. the  fire  have  been  out,  and 
now  they  enjoy  the  privilege  of  the  fire,  some 
praise  from  the  hunters,  and  receive  withal  an 
occasional  reproof  from  the  squaws,  if  they  ap- 
proach  their  wishful  noses   too  close  to  the 
tempting  viands. 

The  elder  boys  are  shooting  at  a  mark  on 
yonder  birch-tree;  the  girls  are  olavin?  or  roll 


*^'':.^ 


me  softened 
had  come  in 
se ;  the  wig- 
ing,  sending 
blue  smoke 
y  portion  of 
ticks  before 
ivn   cooking 
s  hot  embers 
beverage,  in 
y  are  so  for- 
lis  has  been 
;he  west,  by 
n  a  special 
brethren  on 
ooked  some 
that  sends 
pottage,  or 
ose  to  give 
of  venison, 
lounds  that 
en  out,  and 
'  fire,  some 
3  withal  an 
if  they  ap- 
)se  to  the 

I  mark  on 
ne-  or  mil 


THE   CANADIAN   CRUSOES.  325 

ing  on  the  grass ;  "  The  Snow-bird"  is  seated  on 
the  floor  of  the  wigwam  braiding  a  necklace  of 
sweet  grass,  which  she  confines  in  links  by  means 
of  little  bands  of  coloured  quills ;  Catharine  is 
working  mocassins  beside  her;_a  dark  shadow 
falls  across  her  work  from  the  open  tent  door- 
an  exclamation  of  surprise  and  displeasure  from 
one  of  the  women  makes  Catharine  raise  her 
eyes  to  the  doorway;    there,  silent,  pale,  and 
motionless  the  mere  shadow  of  her  former  self 
stands  Indiana-a  gleam  of  joy  lights  for  an 
instant  her  large  lustrous  eyes.     Amazement 
and  delight  at  the  sight  of  her  beloved  friend 
for  a  moment  deprives  Catharine  of  the  power  of 
speech  ;  then  terror  for  the  safety  of  her  friend 
takes  place  of  her  joy  at  seeing  her.    She  rises 
regardless  of  the  angry  tones  of  the  Indian 
woman  s  voice,   and   throws  her  arms  about 
Indiana  as  if  to  shield  her  from  threatened 
danger,  and  sobs  her  welcome  in  her  arms 

"Indiana,  dear  sister  I  how  came  you  hither 

and  for  what  purpose?"  ' 

"To  free  you,  and  then  die,"  was  the  soft 

low,  tremulous  answer.     "  Follow  me."  ' 

Catharine,  wondering  at  the  calm  and  fearless 

manner  with  which  the  young  Mohawk  waved 

back  the  dusky  matron  who  approached  as  if 

with  ^the  design   of  laying    hands    upon    her 

nnwcxcome  guest,  followed  with  beating  heart 

28 


826 


THE   CANADIAN  CRUS0E8. 


till  tliey  stood  in  the  entrance  of  the  lodge 
of  the  Bald  Eagle;  it  was  filled  with  the 
hunters,  who  were  stretched  on  skins  on  the 
floor  reposing  in  quiet  after  the  excitement  of 
the  chase. 

The  young  Mohawk  bent  her  head  down  and 
crossed  her  arms,  in  attitude  of  submission,  over 
her  breast  as  she  stood  in  the  opening  of  the 
lodge ;  but  she  spoke  no  word  till  the  old  chief 
waving  back  the  men,  who  starting  to  their  feet 
were  gathering  round  him  as  if  to  shield  him  from 
danger,  and  sternly  regarding  her,  demanded 
from  whence  she  came  and  for  what  purpose. 

"To  submit  myself  to  the  will  of  my  Ojebwa 
father,"  was  the  meek  reply.  "  May  the  daughter 
of  the  Bald  Eagle's  enemy  speak  to  her  great 
father?" 

"  Say  on,"  was  the  brief  reply,  "  the  Bald 
Eagle's  ears  are  open." 

"  The  Bald  Eagle  is  a  mighty  chief,  the  con- 
queror of  his  enemies  and  the  father  of  his 
people,"  replied  the  Mohawk  girl^  and  again 
was  silent. 

"The  Mohawk  squaw  speaks  well;  let  her 
say  on." 

"  The  heart  of  the  Mohawk  is  an  open  flower, 
it  can  be  looked  upon  by  the  eye  of  the  Great 
Spirit.  She  speaks  :he  words  of  truth.  The 
Ojebwa  chief  slew  his  enemies,  they  bad  done 


'**^:':» 


f  the  lodge 
I  with  the 
kins  on  the 
citeraent  of 

d  down  and 
lission,  over 
ning  of  the 
ae  old  chief 
to  their  feet 
jld  him  from 
,  demanded 
;  purpose, 
my  Ojebwa 
he  daughter 
o  her  great 

"the  Bald 

ef,  the  con- 

ther  of  his 

and  again 

ill;   let  her 

»pen  flower, 
f  the  Great 
ruth.  The 
T  had  dona 


THE  CANADIAN  CRUSOES.  {^27 

trort?''''  "^'T^'  ^'  P^^^«^^^  *hem  forth. 

oa^es  of  his  enemies  save  one  vouno-  squaw 

he  daughter  of  a  bravo,  the  gran'^dau^ht'e  Tf' 

the  Black  Snake.     The  Bald  Eagle  loves  even 

an  enemy  that  is  not  afraid  to  r'ais    the  la" 

"The  Bald  Eagle  brought  the  loneW  one  to 
imfe,  he  bade  h,s  squaws  comfort  her ;  bui  her 

fatherT^'.^r"   •'  ^'^  P"^"*  '""^  *^  ^"'"^  o  ho 
fathers.    Sh..  said,  X  will  revenge  my  father  2 

mother,  and  my  brothers  and  listed    a„d\er 

heart  burned  within  her:  but  her  hand  wt  no 

strong  to  shed  blood,  the  Great  Spirit  waTtbou 

2  Ojebwa  father;  she  failed  and  wouTd  have 

f  .1    ?■?  f '"^  ^^ '"  her  flesh.     The  peoje 

of  the  Bald  Kaglo  took  her,  they  broulhtTer 

down  the  great  river  to  the  eouncH  MH   thev 

bound  her  with  thongs  and  left  her  to  d    '   She 

prayed,  and  the  Great  Spirdt  heard  her  prater 

and  sent  her  help.    The  white  man  came    his 

«*vf    isuc 


'f^f 


"u  iuu  ner  to  his  lodge. 


828 


THE  CANADIAN  CRUSOES. 


The  white  squaw  (and  she  pointed  to  Catharine) 
was  there,  she  bound  up  her  wounds,  she  laid 
her  on  her  own  bed,  she  gave  her  meat  and 
drink,  and  tended  her  with  love.  She  taught 
her  to  pray  to  the  Good  Spirit,  and  told  her  to 
return  good  for  evil,  to  be  true  and  just,  kind 
and  merciful.  The  hard  heart  of  the  young  girl 
became  soft  as  clay  when  moulded  for  the  pots, 
and  she  loved  her  white  sister  and  brothers,  and 
was  happy.  The  Bald  Eagle's  people  came, 
when  my  white  brothers  were  at  peace,  they 
found  a  trembling  fawn  within  the  lodge,  they 
led  her  away,  they  left  tears  and  loneliness 
where  joy  and  peace  had  been.  The  Mohawk 
Bquaw  could  not  see  the  hearth  of  her  white 
brothers  desolate ;  she  took  the  canoe,  she  came 
to  the  lodge  of  the  great  father  of  his  tribe,  and 
she  says  to  him,  '  Give  back  the  white  squaw  to 
her  home  on  the  Eice  Lake,  and  take  in  her 
stead  the  rebellious  daughter  of  the  Oiebwa's 
enemy,  to  die  or  be  his  servant ;  she  fears  not 
now  the  knife  or  the  tomahawk,  the  arrow  or  the 
spear :  her  life  is  in  the  hand  of  the  great  chief.' " 
She  sank  on  her  knees  as  she  spoke  these  last 
words,  and  bowing  down  her  head  on  her  breast 
remained  motionless  as  a  statue. 

There  was  silence  for  some  minutes,  and-  then 
the  old  man  rose  and  said, — 

**  "nancfVifay     nf    a     Vi-.-oxrA     tirnmon       tTinil     V>oo* 


ES. 

to  Catharine) 
mds,  she  laid 
ler  meat  and 
She  taught 
d  told  her  to 
nd  just,  kind 
he  young  girl 
.  for  the  pots, 
brothers,  and 
people  came, 
t  peace,  they 
e  lodge,  they 
nd  loneliness 
The  Mohawk 
of  her  white 
noe,  she  came 
his  tribe,  and 
hite  squaw  to 
[  take  in  her 
the  Ojebwa'a 
she  fears  not 
3  arrow  or  the 
great  chief.' " 
oke  these  last 
on  her  breast 

Ltes,  and- then 

Lj|       vHOtA      Hud  ft 


THE   CANADIAN  CRUSOES. 


829 


spoken  long,  and  thou  hast  spoken  well-  the 
ears  of  the  Bald  Eagle  have  been  open.  The 
white  squaw  shall  be  restored  to  her  brother's 
lodge— but  thou  remainest.     I  have  spoken." 

Catharine  in  tears  cast  her  arms  around  her 
disinterested  friend  and  remained  weeping— how 
could  she  accept  this  great  sacrifice  ?    She  in  her 
turn    pleaded   for   the  life  and   liberty  of  the 
Mohawk,  but  the  chief  turned  a  cold  ear  to  her 
passionate  and  incoherent  pleading.     He  was 
weary— he  was  impatient  of  further  excitement 
--he coldly  motioned  to  them  to  withdraw;  and 
the  friends  in  sadness  retired  to  talk  over  all 
that  had  taken  place  since  that  sad  day  when 
Catharine  was  taken  from  her  home.  While  her 
heart  was  joyful  at  the  prospect  of  her  own  re-  ■ 
lease,  it  was  clouded  with  fears  for  the  uncertain 
fate  of  her  beloved  friend. 

"  They  will  condemn  me  to  a  cruel  death," 
said  Inuiana,  "  but  I  can  suffer  and  die  for  my 
white  sister." 

That  night  the  Indian  ^^rl  slept  sweetly  and 
tranquilly  beside  Catharine;  but  Catharine 
could  not  sleep ;  she  communed  with  her  own 
heart  in  the  still  watches  of  the  night— it 
seemed  as  if  a  new  life  had  been  infused  within 
her.  She  no  longer  thought  and  felt  as  a  child  • 
the  energies  of  her  mind  had  been  awakened, 
ripened  into  maturity  as  it  were,  and  suddenly 


en  I 


330 


THE   CANADIAN  CRUSOES. 


expanded.  When  all  the  inmates  of  the  lodges 
were  profoundly  sleeping,  Catharine  arose, — a 
Budden  thought  had  entered  into  her  mind,  and 
she  hesitated  not  to  put  her  design  into  execu- 
tion. There  was  no  moon,  but  a  bright  arch  of 
light  spanned  the  forest  to  the  north  ;  it  was  mild 
and  soft  as  moonlight,  but  less  bright,  and  cast 
no  shadow  across  her  path ;  it  showed  her  the 
sacred  tent  of  the  widov/  of  the  murdered 
Mohawk.  With  noiseless  step  she  lifted  aside 
the  curtain  of  skins  that  guarded  it,  and  stood 
at  the  entrance.  Light  as  was  her  step,  it 
awakened  the  sleeper ;  she  raised  herself  on  her 
arm  and  looked  up  with  a  dreamy  and  ab- 
stracted air  as  Catharine,  stretching  forth  her 
hand,  in  tones  low  and  tremulous  thus  addressed 
her  in  the  Ojebwa  tongue, — 

"The  Great  Spirit  sends  me  to  thee,  O  wo- 
man of  much  sorrow ;  he  asks  of  thee  a  great 
deed  of  mercy  and  goodness.  Thou  hast  shed 
blood,  and  he  is  angry.  He  bids  thee  to  save 
the  life  of  an  enemy — the  blood  of  thy  murd''«,red 
husband  flows  in  her  veins.  See  that  thou 
disobey  not  the  words  that  he  commands." 

She  dropped  the  curtain  and  retired  as  she 
had  come,  with  noiseless  step,  and  lay  down 
again  in  the  tent  beside  Indiana.  Her  heart 
beat  as  though  it  would  burst  its  way  through 
her  bosom.     What  had  she  done  ? — what  dared  ? 


cs. 

of  the  lodges 
ine  arose, — a 
ler  mind,  and 
n  into  execu- 
right  arch  of 
1 ;  it  was  mild 
ight,  and  cast 
owed  her  the 
be  murdered 
le  lifted  aside 
it,  and  stood 
her  step,  it 
lerself  on  her 
imy  and  ab- 
ng  forth  her 
lus  addressed 

>  thee,  0  wo- 
'  thee  a  great 
lou  hast  shed 
thee  to  save 
thy  murdored 
3e  that  thou 
imands." 
jtired  as  she 
d  lay  down 
Her  heart 
way  through 
-what  dared  ? 


1 


THE   CANADIAN   CRUSOES.  881 

She  had  entered  the  presence  of  that  terrible 
^oman  alone,  at  the  dead  hour  of  night!  she 
had  spoken  bold  and  presumptuous  words  to  .hat 
strange  being  whom  even  her  own  people  hardly 
dared  to  approach  uncalled-for  I     Sick  with  ter- 
ror  at  the  consequences  of  her  temerity,  Oatha- 
me  cast  her  trembling  arms  about  the  sleeping 
Indian  girl,  and  hiding  her  head  in  her  bosom' 
wept  and  prayed  till  sleep  came  over  her  wea^ 
ried  spirit.    It  was  late  when  she  awoke,    She 
J^s  alone :  the  lodge  was  empty.    A  vague  fear 
r.oi.ed  her  .she  hastily  arose  to  seek  her  friend 
X.  ^VBS  evident  that  some  great  event  was  in 
preparation.     The  Indian  men  had  put  on  the 
war-paint  and  strange  and  ferocious  eyes  were 
glancmg  from  beneath  their  shageT  locks     A 
stake  was  driven  m  the  centre  ^tZtJ, 

2T12  Tl  "'  ?'  ''"''^  ^^^^^ '-  *^-^'  bound, 

«tnn7  ^i"  ''  ""•  ""'^"^'^  countenance  she 
stood.     There  was  no  sign  of  woman's  fear  in 

sight    of  the  death-dooming  men   who  stood 
round  her,  armed  with  their  terrible  weapons  of 
des  ruction.    Her  thoughts  seemed  far'^away 
perhaps  they  were  with  her  dead  kindred,  wander^ 
mg  m  t  at  happy  landtowhich  the  Ind/arhope. 

.__  ..^cucu  to  her,  she  was  lookiag 


882 


THE  CANADIAN   CRUSOES. 


fir 


to  Him  who  has  promised  a  crown  of  life  to 
Buch  as  believe  in  Hi?  name.     She  saw  not  the 
look  of  agony  with  which  Catharine  regarded 
her ;  and  the  poor  girl,  fuu  of  grief,  sunk  down 
at  the  foot  of  a  neighbouring  tree,  and  burying 
her  face  between  her  knees,  wept  and  prayed — 
oh  I  how  fervently  1     A  hope  crept  to  her  heart 
— even  while  the  doom  of  Indiana  seemed  dark- 
est— that  some  good  might  yet  accrue  from  her 
visit  to  the   wigwam   of  the   Great   Medicine 
squaw.     She  knew  that  the  Indians  have  great 
belief  in  omens,  and  warnings,  and  spirits,  both 
good  and  evil ;  she  knew  that  her  mysterious 
appearance  in  the  tent  of  the  Mohawk's  widow 
would  be  construed  by  her  into  spiritual  agency ; 
and  her  heart  was  strengthened  by  this  hope. 
Yet  just  now  there  seems  little  reason  to  en- 
courage hope :  the  war-whoop  is  given,  the  war- 
dance  is  begun — first  slow,  and  grave,  and  mea- 
sured ;  now  louder  and  quicker,  and  more  wild 
become  both  sound  and  movement.     But  why 
is  it  hushed  again?    See,  a  strange  canoe  ap- 
pears on  the  river ;  anon  an  old  weather-beaten 
man,  with  firm  step,  appears  on  the  greensward 
and  approaches  the  area  of  the  lodge. 

The  Bald  Eagle  greets  him  with  friendly 
courtesy ;  the  dance  and  death-song  are  hushed ; 
a  treaty  is  begun.  It  is  for  the  deliverance  of 
the  captives.     The  chief  points  to  Catharine — 


^n  of  life  to 
saw  not  the 
le  regarded 

sunk  down 
md.  burying 
id  prayed — 
to  her  heart 
eemed  dark- 
ue  from  her 
at  Medicine 
J  have  great 

spirits,  both 
'  mysterious 
iwk's  widow 
tual  agency ; 
•y  this  hope. 
3ason  to  en- 
^en,  the  war- 
,ve,  and  mea- 
id  more  wild 
t.  But  why 
^e  canoe  ap- 
;ather-beaten 
3  greensward 


re. 


vith  friendly 

J  are  hushed ; 

eliverance  of 

Catharine — 


THE  CANADIAN   CRUSOES. 


333 


she  is  free :  his  white  brother  may  take  her^ 
she  is  his.  But  the  Indian  law  of  justice  must 
take  its  course ;  the  condemned,  who  raised  her 
hand  against  an  Ojebwa  chief,  must  die.  In  vain 
were  the  tempting  stores  of  scarlet  cloth  and 
beads  for  the  women,  with  powder  and  shot, 
laid  before  the  chief:  the  arrows  of  six  warriors 
were  fitted  to  the  string,  and  again  the  dance 
and  song  commenced,  as  if,  like  the  roll  of  the 
drum  and  clangour  of  the  trumpet,  it  were 
necessary  to  the  excitement  of  strong  and  pow- 
erful feelings,  and  the  suppression  of  all  ten- 
derer emotions. 

And  now  a  wild  and  solemn  voice  was  h-^-ard, 
unePTthly  in  its  tones,  rising  above  the  yells  of 
those  savage  men.  At  that  sound  every  cheek 
became  pale :  it  struck  upon  the  ear  as  some 
funeral  wail.  Was  it  the  death-^ong  of  the 
captive  girl  bound  to  that  fearful  stake  ?  No ; 
for  she  stands  unmoved,  with  eyes  raised  heav- 
enward, and  lips  apart — 

"^  "In  still,  but  brave  despair." 

Shrouded  in  a  mantle  of  dark  cloth,  her  long 
black  hair  unbound  and  streaming  over  her 
shoulders,  appears  the  Mohawk  widow,  the 
daughter  of  the  Ojebwa  chief.  The  gathering 
throng  fall  back  as  she  approaches,  awed  by  hei 
sudden  appearance  among  them.     She  stretches 


"'•T-imiiilllM'ilHiHiiiMI 


^u^^-<..^.  .^^^m 


l.-»   «;'. 


334 


THE  CANADIAN  CRUSOES. 


out  a  hand  on  which  dark  stains  are  visible — it 
is  the  blood  of  her  husband,  sacriiiced  by  her  on 
that  day  of  fearful  deeds:  it  has  never  been 
effaced.  In  the  name  of  the  Great  Spirit  she 
claims  the  captive  girl — the  last  of  that  devoted 
tribe — to  be  delivered  over  to  her  will.  Her 
right  to  this  remnant  of  her  murdered  husband's 
family  is  acknowledged.  A  knife  is  placed  in 
her  hand,  while  a  deafening  yell  of  triumph 
bursts  from  the  excited  squaws,  as  this  their  great 
high-priestess,  as  they  deemed  her,  advanced  to 
the  criminal.  But  it  was  not  to  shed  the  heart's 
blood  of  the  Mohawk  girl,  but  to  sever  the 
thongs  that  bound  her  to  the  deadly  stake,  for 
which  that  glittering  blade  was  drawn,  and  to 
bid  her  depart  in  peace  whithersoever  she 
would  go. 

Then,  turning  to  the  Bald  Eagle,  she  thus 
addressed  him :  "  At  the  dead  of  night,  when 
the  path  of  light  spanned  the  sky,  a  vision 
stood  before  mine  eyes.  It  came  from  the 
Great  and  Good  Spirit,  and  bade  me  to  set  free 
the  last  of  a  murdered  race  whose  sun  had  gone 
down  in  blood  shed  by  my  hand  and  by  the 
hands  of  my  people.  The  vision  told  me  that 
if  I  did  this  my  path  should  henceforth  be  peace, 
and  that  I  should  go  to  the  better  land  and  be 
at  rest  if  I  did  this  good  deed."    She  then  laid 


m 


THE  CANADIAN  CRUSOES. 


335 


her  hands  on  the  head  of  the  young  Mohawk, 
blessed  her,  and  enveloping  herself  in  the  dark 
mantle,  slowly  retired  back  to  her  solitary  tent 
once  more. 


i 


836 


THE  CANADIAN  CRUS0E8. 


CHAPTER   XVI. 

"Hame,  hame,  hame, 
Hamo  I  Boon  shall  be ; 
Hame,  hame,  hame, 
In  mine  own  countrie." — Scotch  BaUad. 


OLD  Jp'^ob  and  Catharine,  wTio  had  been 
rnute  spectators  of  the  scene  so  full  of  in 
terest  to  them,  now  presented  themselves  before 
the  Ojebwa  chief,  and  besought  leave  to  depart. 
The  presents  were  again  laid  before  him,  and 
this  time  were  graciously  accepted.     Catharine 
in  distributing  the  beads  and  cloth  took  care 
that  the  best  portion  should  fall  to  the  grand- 
daughter of  the  chief,  the  pretty  good-humoured 
Snow-bird.     The  old  man  was  not  insensible  to 
the  noble  sacrifice  which  had  been  made  by  the 
devoted  Indiana,  and  he  signified  his  forgive- 
ness of  her  fault  by  graciously  offering  to  adopt 
her  as  his  child,  and  to  give  her  in  marriage  to 
one  of  his  grandsons,  an  elder  brother  of  the 
Snow-bird  ;  but  the  young  girl  modestly  but 
firmly  refused  this  mark  of  favour,  for  her  heart 
yearned  for  those  whose  kindness  had  saved 
her  from  death,  and  who  had  taught  her  to  look 
beyond  the  things  of  this  world  to  a  bnghter 


'^W' 


THE   CANADIAN  CRUSOES. 


887 


■Scotch  Ballad. 


and  a  better  state  of  being.  She  said,  »  She 
would  go  with  her  white  sister,  and  pray  to 
God  to  bless  her  enemies,  as  the  Great  Spirit 
had  taught  her  to  do." 

It  seems  a  lingering  principle  of  good  in 
human  nature,  that  the  exercise  of  mercy  and 
virtue  opens  the  heart  to  the  enjoyment  of 
social  happiness.  The  Indians,  no  longer  worked 
up  by  excitement  to  deeds  of  violence,  seemed 
disposed  to  bury  the  hatchet  of  hatred,  and  the 
lodge  was  now  filled  with  mirth,  and  the  voice 
of  gladness,  feasting,  and  dancing.  A  covenant 
of  peace  and  good- will  was  entered  upon  by  old 
Jacob  and  the  chief,  who  bade  Catharine  tell 
her  brothers  that  from  henceforth  they  should 
be  free  to  hunt  the  deer,  fish,  or  shoot  the  wild 
fowl  of  the  lake,  whenever  they  desired  to  do 
so,  "he  the  Bald  Eagle  had  said  so." 

On  the  morrow,  with  the  first  dawn  of  day, 
the  old  trapper  was  astir ;  the  canoe  was  ready, 
with  fresh  cedar  boughs  strewed  at  the  bottom! 
A  supply  of  parched  rice  and  dried  fish  had 
been  presented  by  the  Indian  chief  for  the 
voyage,  that  his  white  brother  and  the  young 
girls  might  not  suffer  from  want.  At  sunrise 
the  old  man  led  his  young  charges  to  the  lodge 
of  the  Bald  Eagle,  who  took  a  kindly  farewell 
of  them.     "  The  Snow-bird"  was  sorrowful,  and 

her  bright  laughing  eyes  were  dimmed  with 
29 


888 


THE   CANADIAN   CRUSOES. 


tears  at  parting  with  Catharine  ;  she  was  a 
gentle  loving  thing,  as  soft  and  playful  as  the 
tame  fawn  that  nestled  its  velvet  head  against 
her  arm.  She  did  not  let  Catharine  depart 
without  many  tokens  of  her  regard,  the  work 
of  her  own  hands,— bracelets  of  porcupine  quills 
cut  in  fine  pieces  and  strung  in  fanciful  patterns,* 
mocassins  richly  wrought,  and  tiny  bark  dishes 
and  boxes,  such  as  might  have  graced  a  lady's 
work-table,  so  rare  was  their  workmanship. 

Just  as  they  were  about  to  step  into  the 
canoe,  "  the  Snow-bird"  reappeared,  bearing  a 
richly  worked  bark  box,  "  From  the  Great 
Medicine,"  she  said  in  a  low  voice,  "to  the 
daughter  of  the  Mohawk  brave."  The  box  con- 
tained a  fine  tunic,  soft  as  a  lady's  glove,  em- 
broidered and  fringed,  and  a  fillet  of  scarlet  and 
blue  feathers,  with  the  wings  and  breast  of  the 
■war-bird,  as  shoulder  ornaments.  It  was  a 
token  of  reconciliation  and  good- will  worthy  of 
a  generous  heart. 

The  young  girl  pressed  the  gifts  to  her  bosom 
and  to  her  lips  reverentially,  and  the  hand  that 
brought  them  to  her  heart,  as  she  said  in  her 
native  tongue,  "  Tell  the  Great  Medicine  I  kiss 
her  in  my  heart,  and  pray  that  she  may  have 
peace  and  joy  till  she  departs  for  the  spirit- 
land." 

*  Appendix  M. 


THE  CANADIAN  CEMOIS.  339 

With  joyful  heart  they  bade  adieu  to  the 
tndmn  lodges,  and  rejoiced  i„  being  once  more 
afloat  on   the  bosom  of  the  great  river.    To 
Cathanno  the  events  of  the  past  hour  seemed 
I.lce  a  strange  bewildering  dream ;  she  longed 
for  the  qmet  repose  of  home;  and  how  glally 
d.d  she  hsten  to  that  kind  old  :„an's  plans  for 
restormg  her  brothers  and  he^elf  to  The  arms 
of  their  beloved  parents.     How  often  did  she 
say  to  herself,  Oh  that  I  had  wings  like  a  dove 
for  then  would  I  flee  aw.y  and  be  at  rest  llTn 
the  shelter  of  that  dear  mother's  arms  whom  she 
now  pined  for  with  a  painful  yearning  of  the 
^ar^  that  might  well  be  called  home  sickness. 
Jiut  in  spite  of  anxious  wishes,  the  little  party 
were  compelled  to  halt  for  the  night  some  few 
mil^  above  the  lake.    There  is  on  the  eastern 

clothed  with  wild  cherries,  hawthorns,  and  pine^ 
trees,  just  where  a  creek  half  hidden  by  dder 
and  cranberry  bashes,  works  its  way  below  the 
shodder  of  the  little  eminence ;  ti.is  creek  grows 
broader  and  becomes  a  little  stream,  throu Jh 
which  the  hunters  sometimes  paddle  their  elnoj 

Croo:^s°Eapir*^'"^^^^^''°^'^^'^-- 

To  this  creek  old  Jacob  steered  his  light  craft. 

and  bidding  the  girbcoUect  afewdrvs«l?„^ 

Branches  for  an  evemng  fire  on  the  sheite^^ 


1     ii^u:  J 


840 


THE  CANADIAN  CRUS0E8. 


Bide  of  the  little  bank,  he  soon  lighted  the  pile 
into  a  cheerful  blaze  by  the  aid  of  birch  bark, 
he  hunter's  tinder— a  sort  of  fungus  that  is 
found  in  the  rotten  oak  and  maple-trees— and  a 
knife  and  flint ;  he  then  lifted  the  canoe,  and 
having  raised  it  on  its  side,  by  means  of  two 
small  stakes  which  he  cut  from  a  bush  hard  by, 
then  spread  down  his  ^^iffalo  robe  on  the  dry 
grass.  "  There  is  a  tent  fit  for  n  queen  to  sleep 
under,  mes  ch6r.es  fiUes,"  he  said,  eyeing  his 
arrangements  for  their  night  shelter  with  great 
satisfaction. 

He  then  proceeded  to  bait  his  line,  and  in  a 
few  minutes  had  a  dish  of  splendid  bass  ready 
for  the  coals.  Catharine  selected  a  large  flat 
block  of  limestone  on  which  the  fish  when 
broiled  was  laid ;  but  old  Jacob  opened  his  wide 
mouth  and  laughed  when  she  proceeded  to  lay 
her  bush  table  with  large  basswood  leaves  for 
platters.  Such  nicety  he  *  rofessed  was  unusual 
on  a  hunter's  table.  He  was  too  old  a  forester 
to  care  how  his  food  was  dished,  ^^o  that  he  had 
wherewithal  to  satisfy  his  hunger. 

Many  were  the  merry  tales  he  told  and  the 
songs  he  sung,  to  wile  away  the  time,  till  the 
daylight  faded  from  the  sky,  and  the  deep  blue 
heavens  were  studded  with  bright  stars,  which 
were  mirrored  in  countless  hosts  deep,  deep  down 
in  that  calm,  waveless  river,  while  thouaauds  of 


jhted  the  pile 
if  birch  bark, 
ungus  that  ia 
3-trees — and  a 
be  canoe,  and 
means  of  two 
bush  hard  by, 
36  on  the  dry 
peen  to  sleep 
d,  eyeing  his 
Iter  with  great 

line,  and  in  a 
[id  bass  ready 
id  a  large  flat 
;he  fish  when 
pened  his  wide 
oceeded  to  lay 
Dod  leaves  for 
d  was  unusual 
old  a  forester 
jO  that  he  had 

• 

3  told  and  the 
s  time,  till  the 
[  the  deep  blue 
ht  stars,  which 
eep,  deep  down 
Q  tiiousaudd  oi 


THE   CANADIAN  CRUSOES. 


B41 


8 


fireflies  lighted  up  the  dark  recesses  of  the 
forest's  gloom.  High  in  the  upper  air  the  hollow 
booming  of  the  night-hawk  was  heard  at  inter- 
vals, and  the  wild  cry  of  the  night-owl  from  a 
dead  branch,  shouting  to  its  fellow,  woke  the 
silence  of  that  lonely  river  scene. 

The  old  trr ,  per, .-  t-etched  before  the  crackling 
fire,  smoked  h'^  pipe  or  hummed  some  French 
voyageur's  son,:.  BcMieath  the  shelter  of  the 
canoe  soundly  ■ 'epi  the  two  girls;  the  dark 
cheek  of  the  Indian  girl  pillowod  on  the  arm  of 
her  fairer  companion,  her  thick  tresses  of  raven 
hair  mingling  with  the  silken  ringlets  of  the 
white  maiden.  They  were  a  lovely  pair— one 
fair  aa  morning,  the  other  dark  as  night. 

How  lightly  did  they  spring  from  their  low 
bed,  awakened  by  the  early  song  of  the  forest 
birds  1     The  light  curling  mist  hung  in  fleecy 
volumes  upon  the  river,  like  a  flock  of  sheep  at 
rest— the  tinkling  sound  of  the  heavy  dew-drops 
fell  in  mimic  showers  upon  the  stream.     See 
that  red  squirrel,  how  lightly  he  r.;.i3  along  that 
fallen    trunk— how   furtively  he  glances  with 
his  sharp  bright  eye  at  the  intruders  on  his 
sylvan   haunts!     Hark!    there   is    a   rustling 
among  the  leaves— what  strange  creature  works 
its  way  to  the  shore  ?     A  mud-turtle— it  turns, 
ftnd  now  is  trotting  along  the  little  sandy  ridge 
to  some  suniiy  spot,  where,  half  buned,  it  may 

29"* 


S42 


THE   CANADIAN   CRUSOES. 


lie  unseen  near  the  edge  of  the  river.  See  that 
musk-rat,  how  boldly  he  plunges  into  the  stream, 
and,  with  his  oar-like  tail,  stems  the  current 
till  he  gains  in  safety  the  sedges  on  the  other 
side. 

What  gurgling  sound  is  that  ? — it  attracts  the 
practised  ear  of  the  old  hunter.  What  is  that 
object  which  floats  so  steadily  down  the  middle 
of  the  stream,  and  leaves  so  bright  a  line  in  its 
wake  ? — it  is  a  noble  stag.  Look  at  the  broad 
chest  with  which  he  breasts  the  water  so  gal- 
lantly ;  see  how  proudly  he  carries  his  antlered 
head ;  he  has  no  fear  in  those  lonely  solitudes — 
he  has  never  heard  the  crack  of  the  hunter's 
rifle — he  heeds  not  the  sharp  twang  of  that  bow- 
string, till  the  arrow  rankles  in  his  neck,  and 
the  crimson  flood  dyes  the  water  around  him — 
he  turns,  but  it  is  only  to  present  a  surer  mark 
for  the  arrow  of  the  old  hunter's  bow ;  and  now 
the  noble  beast  turns  to  bay,  and  the  canoe  is 
rapidly  launched  by  the  hand  of  the  Indian  girl 
■ — her  eye  flashes  with  the  excitement — her 
whole  soul  is  in  the  chase — she  stands  up  in  the 
cane  J,  and  steers  it  full  upon  the  wounded  buck, 
while  a  shower  of  blows  are  dealt  upon  his  head 
and  neck  with  the  paddle.  Catharine  buries  her 
face  in  her  hands — she  cannot  bear  to  look  upon 
the  sufferings  of  the  noble  animal.  She  will 
never  make  a  huntress — her  heart  is  cast  in  too 


M- 


i. 

T.  See  that 
3  the  stream, 
the  current 
•n  the  other 

I  attracts  the 
Vhat  is  that 
L  the  middle 
I  a  line  in  its 
it  the  broad 
ater  so  gal- 
his  antlered 
T  solitudes — 
the  hunter's 
of  that  bow- 
is  neck,  and 
ound  him — 
surer  mark 
w ;  and  now 
;he  canoe  is 
3  Indian  girl 
tement — her 
ds  up  in  the 
unded  buck, 
pon  his  head 
le  buries  her 
;o  look  upon 
1.  She  will 
B  cast  iu  too 


THE   CANADIAN   CRUSOES. 


843 


soft  a  mould.  See !  they  have  towed  the  deer 
ashore,  and  Jacob  is  in  all  his  glory,— the  little 
squaw  is  an  Indian  at  heart— see  with  what  ex- 
pertness  she  helps  the  old  man;  acr  now  the 
great  business  is  completed,  and  the  venison  is 
stowed  away  at  the  bottom  of  the  canoe— they 
wash  their  hands  in  the  river  and  come  at 
Cathanne's  summons  to  eat  her  br   .kfast. 

The  sun  is  now  rising  high  above  the  pine- 
trees,  the  morning  mist  is  also  rising  and  roll- 
ing off  like  a  golden  veil   as  it  catches  those 
glorious  rays-the  whole  earth  seems  awaken- 
ing into  new  life-the  dew  has  brightened  every 
leaf  and  washed  each  tiny  flower-cup-the  pines 
and  balsams  give  out  their  resinous  fragrance 
—the  aspeps  flutter  and  dance  in  the  morning 
breeze   and  return   a   mimic   shower  of  dew- 
drops  to  the.stream-the  shores  become  lower 
and  flatter-the  trees  less  lofty  and  more  mossy 
—the  stream  expands  and  wide  beds  of  rushes 
spread  out  on  either  side-what  beds  of  snowy 
water-hhes-hows  plendid  the  rose  tint  of  those 
perseicarias  that  glow  so  brightly  in  the  morn- 
ing sun-the   rushes   look  like  a  green  mea- 
dow, but  the   treacherous  water  lies  deep  be- 
ow  their  grassy  leaves-the    deer  delights  in 
these  verdant  aquatic  fields,  and  see  what  flocks 
of  red-wmgs  rise  from  among  them  as  the  canoe 


344 


"i-:^' 


m 


mi 


THE  CANADIAN  CRUS0E9. 


passes  near — their  bright  shoulder-knots  glance 
like  flashes  of  lightning  in  the  sunbeams. 

This  low  swamp  J  island,  filled  with  drift- 
wood, these  grey  hoary  trees,  half  choked  and 
killed  with  grey  moss  and  lichens — those  strag- 
gling alders  and  black  ash  look  melancholy— 
they  are  like  premature  old  age,  grey-headed 
youths.  That  island  divides  the  channel  of 
the  river — the  old  man  takes  the  nearest,  the 
lef^  hand,  and  now  taey  are  upon  the  broad 
Eice  Lake,  and  Catharine  wearies  her  eye  to 
catch  the  smoke  of  the  shanty  rising  among 
the  trees — one  after  another  the  islands  steal 
out  into  view — the  capes,  and  bays,  and  shores 
of  the  northern  side  are  growing  less  distinct. 
Yon  hollow  bay,  where  the  beaver  has  hidden 
till  now,  backed  by  that  bold  sweep  of  hills 
that  look  in  the  distance  as  if  only  covered 
with  green  ferns,  with  here  and  th'ere  a  tall  tree, 
stately  as  a  pine  or  oak— that  is  the  spot  where 
Louis  saw  the  landing  of  the  Indians— now  a 
rising  village— Gore's  Landing.  On  yon  lofty 
hill  now  stands  the  village  church;  its  white 
tower  rising  amongst  the  trees  forms  a  charm- 
ing object  from  the  lake ;  and  there,  a  little 
higher  up,  not  far  from  the  plank  road,  now 
stand  pretty  rural  cottages — one  of  these  be- 
longs to  the  spirited  proprietor  of  the  village 
that  bears  his   name.     That  tasteful   garden 


snots  glance 
earns. 

with  drift- 
choked  and 
•those  strag- 
elanchoiy — 
jrey-headed 
channel  of 
nearest,  the 
I  the  broad 
her  eye  to 
sing  among 
slands  steal 
and  shores 
^ess  distinct, 
has  hidden 
sep  of  hills 
ily  covered 
3  a  tall  tree, 
spot  where 
ans — now  a 
a  yon  lofty 
;  its  white 
as  a  charm- 
3re,  a  little 
road,  now 
if  these  be- 
the  village 
ful   garden 


THE  CANADIAN  CRUSOES.  345 

before  the  white  cottage,  to  the  right,  is  Colonel  / 
Brown  s,  and  there  are  pretty  farms  and  cul- 
tivated spots ;  but  silence  and  loneliness  reigned 
there  at  the  time  of  which  I  write. 

Where  those  few    lark  pines  rise  above  the 
oak   groves    like  the   spires  of  churches  in  a 
crowded  city,  is  Mount  Ararat.*    The  Indirn 
girls  steei^straight  between  the  islands  for  that 
ark  of  refuge,  and  Catharine's  eyes  are  dimmed 
with  grateful  tears  as  she  pictures  to  herself 
the  joyful  greeting   in  store  for  her.    lu  the 
overflowings  of  her  gladness  she  seizes  the  old 
man's  rugged  hand  and  kisses  it,  and  flings  her 
arms  about  the  Indian  girl  and  presses  her  to 
her  heart,  when  the  canoe  has  touched  the  old 
well-remembered   landing-place,  and  she  finds 
herself  so   near,  so  very  near  her  lost  home. 
How  precious  are  such  moments— how  few  we 
have  in  life— they  are  created  from  oui  very 
sorrows—without  our  cares  our  joys  would  be 
less  lively;  but  we  have  no  time  to  moralize. 
Catharine  flies  with  the  speed  of  a  young  fawn, 
to  climb  the  steep  clifl-like  shoulder  of  that 
steep  bank,  and  now,  out  of  breath,  stands  at 
the  threshold  of  her  log-house— how  neat  and 
nice  it  looks  compared  with    he  Indians' tents 
•—the  little  field  of  corn  is  green  and  flourish- 
ing—there is  Hector's  axe  in  a  newly-cut  log 

*  Appendix  N. 


"I. 


'i'^iimmui^iu 


846 


THE   CANADIAN  CRUSOES. 


—it  is  nigh    noon—the    boys  ought   to  have 
been  there  taking  their  mid-day  meal,  but  the 
door  is  shut.     Catharine  lifts  the  wooden  latch, 
and  steps  in— the  embers  are  nearly  burned  out 
to  a  handful  of  grey  ashe.^— old  Wolfe  is  not 
there— all  is  silen^-and  Catharine  sits  down  to 
still    the  beating   of  her  heart  and  await  the 
coming  up  of  her  slower  companions,  and  glad- 
dens her  mind  with  the  hope  that  her  brother 
and  Louis  will  soon  be  home— her  eye  wanders 
over  every  old  familiar  object— all  things  seem 
much  as  she  had  left  them,  only  the  maize  is  in 
the  ear  and  the   top  feather  waves  gracefully 
with  the  summer  breeze— it  promises  an  abun- 
dant  crop ;  but  that  harvest  is  nut  to  be  gathered 
by  the  hands   of  the  young  planters— it  was 
left  to  the  birds  of  the  air  and  the  beasts  of 
the  field — to  those  humble   reapers  who  sow 
not,    neither   do   they  gather  into    barns,  for 
their  heavenly  Father  feedeth  them.     While 
the  two  girls  busied  themselves  in  preparing  a 
fine  roast  of  venison,  old  Jacob  stalked  away 
over  the  hills  to  search  for  the  boys,  and  it  was 
not  long  before  he  returned  with  Hector  and 
Louis. 

I  must  not  tell  tales,  or  I  might  say  what 
tears  of  joy  were  mingled  with  the  rapturous 
greetings  with  which  Louis  embraced  his  be- 
loved  cousin  ;  or  I   might  tell  th 


to  have 
,  but  the 
en  latch, 
rned  out 
fe  is  not 
down  to 
wait  the 
nd  giad- 
■  brother 
wanders 
igs  seem 
iize  is  in 
•acefully 
in  abun- 
gathered 
—it  was 
aasts  of 
ho  sow 
rns,  for 
While 
)aring  a 
i  away 
.  it  was 
tor  and 

J  what 
jturous 
his  be* 


THE   CANADIAN   CRLSOES. 


347 


dush  that  warmed  the  dusky  cheek  of  the  young 
Indian,  and  the  light  that  danced  in  her  soft 
black  eyes,  owed  its  origin  to  the  kiss  that  was 
pressed  on  her  red  lips  by  her  white  brother. 
Nor  will  we  say  whose  hand  held  hers  so  lono- 
in  his  while  Catharine  related  the  noble  sacri- 
fice made  for  her  sake,  and  the  perils  encoun- 
tered by  the  devoted  Indiana — whose  eyes  were 
moistened  with  the  tears  as  the  horrors  of  that 
fearful  trial  were  described — or  who  stole  out 
alone  over  the  hills,  and  sat  him  down  in  the 
hush  and  silence  of  the  summer  night  to  think 
of  the  acts  of  heroism  displayed  by  that  un- 
tar^ht  Indian  girl,  and  to  dream  a  dream  of 
youthful  love ;  but  with  these  things,  my  young 
readers,  we  have  nothing  to  do. 
^  "And   now,  my  children,"  said  old  Jacob, 
looking  round  the  little  dwelling,  "have  you 
made  up  ;>  our  minds  to  live  and  die  here  on 
the  shores  of  this  lake,  or  do  you  desire  again 
to  behold  your  father's  home  ?    Do  your  young 
hearts  yearn  after  the   hearth  of  your  child- 
hood?" 

"After  our  fathers'  home!"  was  Louis's  em- 
phatic reply.  "  Aftpr  the  home  of  our  child- 
dood !"  was  Catharine's  earnest  ansvv'-^r.  Hector's 
lips  echoed  his  sister's  words,  whil..  a  furtive 
iroubled  glance  fell  upon  the  orphan  stranger ; 
but  her  timid  eye  was  raised  to  his  young  face 


UB 


fHE   CANADIAN   CRUSOlii 

with  a  trusting  look,  £>  she  would  iiavo  said, 
"  Thj  home  shaJl  be  my  homo,  thy  God  my 
God." 

"  Well,  mon  ami,  I  behave,  if  my  old  mem- 
cry  fails  me  not,  I  can  itriko  the  India  a  indl 
that  used  to  lead  to  the  Cold  Sprin^/s  *— i^r  the 
pine  hills.  It  will  not  be  difficult  for  an  old 
trapper  to  find  his  way." 

"For  my  part,  I  shall  not  leave  this  lovelv 
spot  without  regret,"  said  Hector.  "It  would 
be  a  glorious  place  for  a  settlement— all  that 
one  could  desire— hill,  and  valley,  and  plain, 
wood  and  water.  Well,  I  will  try  and  persuade 
my  father  to  leave  the  Cold  Springs,  and  come 
and  settle  hereabouts.  It  would  be  delightful, 
would  it  not,  Catharine?  esp^^cially  now  we  are 
friends  with  the  Indians." 

With  their  heads  full  of  pleasant  schemes  for 
the  future,  our  young  folks  laid  them  down  that 
night  to  rest.  In  the  morning  they  rose,  packed 
up  such  portable  articles  as  they  could  manage 
to  carry,  and  with  fuU  hearts  sat  down  to  take 
their  last  meal  in  their  home— -in  that  home 
which  had  sheltered  them  so  long— and  then, 
with  one  accord,  they  knelt  down  upon  its 
hearth,  so  soon  to  be  left  in  loneliness,  and 
breathed  a  prayer  to  Him  who  lad  preserved 
them  thus  far  in  their  events  ves,  and  then 
they  journeyed  forth  once  mor     iv.^  the  v/ilder- 


iiavo  said. 
Y  God  my 

'  old  me:Ti« 
idiaii  iT'ail 
;s  ♦■•ver  tlia 
for  an  old 

bis  lovelj 
'  It  would 
— all  that 
ind  plain, 
i  persuade 
and  come 
ielightful, 
>w  we  are 

liemes  for 
lown  that 
ie,  packed 
i  manage 
1  to  take 
lat  home 
md  then, 
upon  its 
less,  and 
)reserved 
and  then 


THE   CANADIAN  CRUSOES. 


849 


ness.  There  was  one,  however,  of  their  little 
band  they  left  behind :  this  was  the  faithful  old 
dog  Wolfe.  He  had  pined  during  the  absence 
of  his  mistress,  and  only  a  few  days  before 
Catharine's  return  he  had  crept  to  the  seat  she 
was  wont  to  occupy,  and  there  died.  Louis  and 
Hector  buried  him,  not  without  great  regret, 
beneath  the  group  of  birch-trees  on  the  brow  of 
the  slope  near  the  corn-field. 
30 


m 


&50 


THE  CANADIAN  CBUSOES. 


CHAPTER   XVII. 

"  I  will  arise,  and  go  to  my  fatlier."_iV^e«»  Testamme. 

TT  is  the  hour  of  sunset ;  the  sonorous  sound 
of  the  catrJe  bells  is  heard,  as  they  slowly 
emerge  from  the  steep  hill  path  that  leads  to 
Max  jell   and    Louis   Perron's  little  clearing; 
the  dark  shadows  are  lengthening  that  those 
wood-crowned  hills  cast  over  that  sunny  spot 
an  oasis  m  the  vast  forest  desert  that  man  ad' 
venturous,  courageous    man,     has  hewed'  for 
himself  m  the  wilderness.    The  little  flock  are 
feedmg  among  the   blackened  stumps  of  the 
uncleared  chopping;   those  timbers  have  lain 
thus  untouched  for  two  long  years;  the  hand 
was  wantmg  that  should  have  given  help  in 
legging  and   burning  them  up.     The  wheat  is 
npe  for  the  sickle,  and  the  silken  beard  of  the 
corn  IS  waving  like  a  fair  girl's  tresses  in  the 
evemng  breeze.     The  tinkling  fall  of  the  cold 
spring  in  yonder  bank  falls  soothingly  on  the 
ear     Who  comes  from  that  low-roofed  log  cabin 
to  bring  m  the  pitcher  of  water,  that  pal^,  care- 
worn, shadowy  figure  that  slowly  moves  along 
the  green  pasture,  as  one  without  hope  or  joy  • 
her  black  hair  is  shared  with  silver,  her  cheek 


THE   CANADIAN  CRUSOES.  351 

is  pale  as  wax,  and  her  hand  is  so  thin,  it  looks 
as  though  the  light  might  be  seen  through,  if 
she  held  it  towards  the  sun?     It  is  the  heart- 
broken  mother  of  Catharine  and  Hector  Max 
well.     Her  heart  has  been  pierced  with  many 
sorrows;  she  cannot  yet  forget  the  children  of 
her  love,  her  first-born  girl  and  boy.     Who 
comes  to  meet   her,  and  with  cheerful  voio« 
chides   her  for  the  tear  that  seems  ever  to  bo 
Imgermg  on  that  pale  cheek,-yet  the  prema- 
ture  furrows  on  that  broad,  sunburnt,  manly 
brow  speak,  too,  of  inward  care  ?    It  is  the 
father  of  Hector  and  Catharine.     Those  two 
fine,  healthy  boys,  in  homespun  blouses,  that 
are  talking  so  earnestly,  as  they  lean  across  the 
rail  fence  of  the  little  wheat-field,  are  Kenneth 
and  Donald;  their  sickles  are  on  their  arms; 
they  have  been  reaping.    They  hear  the  sudden 
barking  of  Bruce  and  Wallace,  the  hounds,  and 
turn  to  see  what  causes  the  agitation  they  dis- 
play. 

An  old  man  draws  near;  be  has  a  knapsack 
on  his  shoulders,  which  he  casts  down  on  the 
corner  of  thestoup;  he  is  singing  a  line  of  an 
old  French  ditty ;  he  raps  at  the  open  door.  The 
Highlander  bids  him  welcome,  but  starts  with 
glad  surprise  as  his  hand  is  grasped  by  the  old 
trapper. 

''  Ha,  Jacob  Morelie,  it  is  many  a  weary  year 


tu2 


THE  CANADIAN  CRUSOES. 


m 


n 


■    I: 


since  jour  step  turned  this  way."  The  tear 
stood  in  the  eye  of  the  soldier  as  he  spoke. 

"  How  is  ma  ch^re  m6re,  and  the  young  ones?" 
asked  the  -'1  in  a  husky  voice— his  kind 

heart  was  full.  "  Can  you  receive  me,  and  those 
I  have  with  me,  for  the  night  ?  A  spare  corner, 
a  shake-down,  will  do ;  we  travellers  in  the  bush 
are  nowise  nice." 

"  The  best  we  have,  and  kindly  welcome ;  it  i 
gude  for  saer  een  to  see  you,  Jacob.     How  mar/ 
are  ye  in  all  ?" 

"  There  are  just  four,  besides  myself,— young 
people ;  I  fo md  them  where  they  had  been  long 
living,  un  a  lonely  lake,  and  I  p^:  .uaded  them 
to  come  with  me." 

The  str  )ng  features  of  the  Highlander  worked 
convulsively  as  he  drew  his  faded  blue  bonnet 
over  his  eyes.  »  Jacob,  did  ye  ken  that  we  lost 
our  eldest  bairns,  some  three  summers  sirce  ?" 
he  faltered,  '  i  a  broken  voice. 

"  n'he  L(  1  in  his  mercy  has  restored  them 
to  you,  Donald,  by  my  hand,"  said  the  trapper. 

"Let  me  see,  let  me  see  my  children.  To 
nim  be  the  pi^ise  and  the  glorj,"  ejaculated  the 
pious  father,  raising  his  bonnot  revfrently  from 
his  head;  "a  .  i  holy  and  blessed  be  his  name 
for  ever  ^  thought  not  to  have  seen  this  day. 
Oh !  Ca  ^E  my  dear  wife,  this  joy  will  kill 
you." 


'  The  tear 
spoke. 
3ungones?" 
e — his  kind 
e,  and  those 
pare  corner, 
in  the  bush 

ilcome ;  it  i 
How  mar/ 

3lf,— young 
i  been  long 
laded  them 

der  worked 
)lue  bonnet 
hat  we  lost 
jra  sirce?" 

;ored  them 
le  trapper. 
Idren.  To 
3ulated  the 
ently  from 
5  his  name 
1  thjs  day. 
y  will  kill 


"'IN  g 


PP 


THE   CANADIAN  CRUSOEa  853 

In  a  moment  his  children  were  enfolded  in 
his  arms.  It  is  a  mistaken  idea  that  joy  kills 
It  IS  a  life  restorer.  Could  you,  my  yonn^^ 
readers,  have  seen  how  quickly  the  bloom  of 
health  began  to  reappear  on  the  faded  cheek  of 
that  pale  mother,  and  how  soon  that  dim  eye  re- 
gained  its  bright  sparkle,  you  would  have  said 
that  joy  does  not  kill. 

"But  where  is  Louis,  dear  Louis,  our  nephew, 
where  is  he  ?"  i'  °w, 

Louis,  whose  impetuosity  was  not  to  be  re- 
strained  by  the  caution  of  old  Jacob,  had  cleared 
the  log  fence  at  a  bound,  had  hastily  embraced 
his  cousms  Kenneth  and  Donald,  and  in  five 
minutes  more  had  rushed  into  his  father's  cottage 
and  wept  his  joy  iu  the  arms  of  father,  mother 
and    sisters  by  turns,  before  old  Jacob    had 
introduced  the  impatient  Hector  and  Catharine 
to  their  father. 

^    "But  while  joy  is  in  our  little  dwelling,  who 
IS  this  that  sits  aparc  upon  that  stone  by  the  lo^ 
fence,  her  face  bent  sadly  down  upon  her  knees 
her  long  raven  hair  shading  her  features  as  with 
a  veil,    asked  the  Highlander  Maxwell,  pointing 
as  he  spoke  to  the  spot  where,  unnoticed  and 
unsharing  in  the  joyful  recognition,  sat  the  poor 
Indian  girl.     I'here  was  no  paternal  embrace 
or  her,  no  tender  mother's  kiss  imprinted  on  ^ 
^ — J  vx^veis.  «iiu  pcusive  Diow — she  was 


ft 


■«^.« 


I'f  nil 


m 


354 


THE  CANADIAN   CRUSOES. 


alone  and  desolate,  in  the  midst  of  that  scene  of 
gladness. 

"It  is  my  Indian  sister,"  said  Catharine, 
"she  also  must  be  your  child;"  and  Hector 
iurried  to  Indiana  and  half  leading,  half  carry- 
ing the  reluctant  girl,  brought  her  to  his  parents 
and  bade  them  to  be  kind  to  and  cherish  the 
young  stranger,  to  whom  they  all  owed  so 
much. 

I  will  not  dwell  upon  the  universal  joy  that 
filled  that  humble  dwelling,  or  tell  the  delight  of 
Kenneth  and  Donald  at  the  return  of  their  lost 
brother  and  sister,  for  my  story  hurries  to  a  close. 

Time  passes  on — ^years,  long  years  have  gone 
by  since  the  return  of  the  lost  children  to  their 
homes,  and  many  changes  have  those  years 
effected.  The  log-houses  have  fallen  to  decay — 
a  growth  of  young  pines,  a  waste  of  emerald 
turf  with  the  charred  logs  that  once  formed 
part  of  the  enclosure,  now,  hardly  serve  to  mark 
out  the  old  settlement — no  trace  or  record  re- 
mains of  the  first  breakers  of  the  bush,  another 
race  occupy  the  ground.  The  traveller  as  he 
passes  along  on  that  smooth  turnpike  road  that 
leads  from  Coburg  to  Cold  Springs,  and  from 
thence  to  Gore's  Landing,  may  notice  a  green 
waste  by  the  road-side  on  either  hand,  and 
fancy  that  thereabouts  our  Canadian  Crusoes' 
home  once  stood — he  sees  th^  lofty  wood-crowned 


ihat  scene  of 

I  Catharine, 
and  Hector 

;,  half  carry- 

)  his  parents 
cherish  the 

ill  owed  so 

fsal  joy  that 
le  delight  of 
of  their  lost 
ies  to  a  close. 
■s  have  gone 
iren  to  their 
those  years 
a  to  decay — 

of  emerald 
ince  formed 
rve  to  mark 
r  record  re- 
lish, another 
speller  as  he 
ce  road  that 
s,  and  from 
tice  a  green 

hand,  and 
an  Crusoes' 
>od-crowned 


THE   CXxVADIAN  CRUSOES.  355 

hill  and  sees  in  spring-time,  for  in  summer  it  is 
hidden  by  the  luxuriant  foliage,  the  little  forest 
creek,  and  he  may,  if  thirsty,  taste  of  the  pure 
fresh  icy  water,  as  it  still  wells  out  from  a  sprint 
in  the  steep  bank,  rippling  through  the  little 
cedar-trough  that  Louis  Perron  placed  there  for 
the  better  speed  of  his  mother  when  fillmc  her 
watering.   All  else  is  gone.    And  what  wrolight 
the  change ?-a  few  words  will  suffice  to  tell 
Some  travelling  fur  merchants  brought  the  news 
to  Donald  Maxwell,  that  a  party  of  Highlanders 
had  made  a  settlement  above  Montreal,  and 
among  them  were  some  of  his  kindred.     The  old 
soldier  resolved  to  join  them,  and  it  was  not 
hard    to  prevail    upon  his    brother-in-law   to 
accompany  him,  for  they  were  all  now  weary 
of  Imng  so  far  from  their  fellow-men;    and 
bidding  farewell  to  the  little  log-houses  at  Cold 
Springs,  they  now  journeyed  downwards  to  the 
new  settlement,  where  they  were  gladly  received 
their  long  experience  of  the  country  makincr 
their  company  a  most  valuable  acquisition  to  the 
new  colonists. 

Not  long  after  the  Maxwells  took  possession 
ot  a  grant  of  land,  and  cleared  and  built  for 
themselves  and  their  family.  That  year  Hector, 
now  a  fine  indusuious  young  man,  presented  at 
the  baptismal  font  as  a  candidate  for  baotism 
liie  Indian  girl,  and  then  received  at  the  altar 


jr 


'^^>T 


856 


THE   CANADIAN   CRUSOES. 


his  newly  baptized  bride.  As  to  Catharine 
and  Louis,  I  am  not  sufficiently  skilled  in  the 
laws  of  their  church  to  tell  how  the  difficulty 
of  nearness  of  kin  was  obviated,  but  they  were 
married  on  the  same  day  as  Hector  and  Indiana, 
and  lived  a  happy  and  prosperous  life;  and 
often  by  their  fireside  would  delight  their  chil- 
dren by  recounting  the  history  of  their  wander* 
ings  on  the  Rice  Lake  Plains. 


IS. 

to  Catharine 
killed  in  the 
the  difficulty 
ut  they  were 
and  Indiana, 
us  life;  and 
ht  their  chil- 
;heir  wander* 


APPENDIX. 


A.,-— Preface.    Page  9. 

Sarah  Campbell,  of  Windsor,  who  was  lost  in  the 
woods  on  the  11th  of  August,  1848,  returned  to  her 
home  on  the  Slst,  having  been  absent  twenty-one 
days.  A  friend  has  sent  us  a  circumstantial  account 
of  ber  wanderings,  of  the  efforts  made  in  her  behalf, 
and  her  return  home,  from  which  we  condense  the 
tollowmg  statements  :— 

It  appears  that  on  the  11th  of  Augiist,  in  company 
V.th  two  friends,  she  went  fishing  on  the  north  branch 
of  Wmdsor-orook ;  and  that  on  attempting  to  return 
she  became   separated   from  hex    companions,  who 
returned   to  her  mother's,   the   Widow   Campbell 
expecting  to  find  her  at  home.     Several  of  her  neigh' 
hours  searched  for  her  during  the  night,  without  success. 
ITie  search  was  continued  during  Sunday,  Monday 
and  Tuesday,  by  some  fifty  or  sixty  individuals,  and 
although  her  tracks,  and  those  of  a  dog  which  accom- 
panied  her,  were  discovered,  no  tidings  of  the  eirl 
...  ...„..„  j,,^,    ^  geneitti  s^xnprtthy  for  the  afflicted 

widow  and  her  lost  daughter  was  vAC^ted,  and  not  with- 


I 


S58 


APPENDIX. 


from  Wmdsor  and  the  neighbouring  townships  of 
B.ompto„    Shipton,   Melbourne,  D^-ha™,  oLd 

ol tr t'  '^°"™''""'"'  "'*•  -^  D^w^ll,  to  Jd 
out  «„h  provisions  and  implements  for  cam„i„,  i„ 
th  woods,  m  search  of  the  girl,  which  was  Cup 
without  mtermission  for  about  fourteen  days  when  h 

ITiZl-  r"  7-  ""'"'  '-^  '-P-ion'tlat  he 
must  have  died,  either  from  starvation,  or  the  in 

cessantly  for  nearly  a  week  of  the  time.  On  the  Slst 
^af  -'--dhome  from  MassaohuseU^and 

returned  thT  "V.*''"  ""^"=''  *''  -"«>>  b«' 
iovThat  1    r™"'  ''''^'  ""'^  '^"^^  ">  "-eir^reat 

ven^nfe'-        ""'  '"'  '""'^  '"''  ^-^  ''omf  the 

evening  previous. 

a  vfeul'"w"f  "''  ^""  'f  "•  "^  oo^^Po^-Jent  made 
r»  !  Tf  "'^  ^""P'''"'  "^  '■^"^  fl-O"  her  daughter 
the  story  of  her  wanderings.    She  was  found,  as  mi.It 

but  q„,  e  rat  onal,  as  it  seems  she  had  been  durin  J 
the  whole  period  of  her  absence.  From  her  story  hf 
following  particulars  were  gathered  ■_  ^ 

«  ^^l^"l  'T  ""  ™'  ■'"■^""^  fro'"  home  down 
Open  Brooke,"  to  a  meadow,  about  a  mile  distant 

from  whereshehadlefther  companions,  which  shmrs. 
took  for  what  ,s  called  the  "  O.ias  opening,"  a  mile 

distant  in  the  opposite  direction.    0„  Sabbtth  m"™! 
mg,  knowing  that  she  was  lost,  and  having  heard  that 

eook  to  follow  the  sun  during  the  day.    In  the  mom. 


APPENDIX. 


869 


ing  she  directed  her  steps  towards  the  F«,f 
the  North  Branch,  mistaking  i   t  ^Open  Cw* 
and  travelled    fto,",o„«  .         ^     Brooke," 

direction    her  ™v  I  •"  """"'"*  "  '  '"""-.east 

Mond^^oS:  terror  :tr  ™ 

from  home  "^^ "  ''^  ^^gh<=  "^'^^^ 

men,  and  their  reeentlv ZmT         ^  ''"''"'=''  "^ 

multitude.  Of  peo7e  trrse:r;rh"T  "■^' 

»o  .iving  pe.o„,  and  heard  no  so™d  of  t^^tt^r 
other  noise,  eieept  the  report  of  a  rrun  ./ i   ,      , 
a  brook,  early  on  m„riy  mornir'tt        7.  ' 
of  her  being  lost.    Thinking  th    2    o  hlv    ,   ^^ 

^^PPosedtwj—tt^i^rCTr?; 

L.  I'/^-'r!^^'  ^'"  -■»«  t"  *^  camp  :^2 
-  »"  »;;.  ru-ea,  but  not  until  after  to  oocupant. 


I 


S60 


APPENDIX. 


had  left  to  renew  their  search  for  her.  This  camp 
was  about  four  miles  from  the  great  meadow,  where 
she  spent  the  Sabbath  previous.  There  she  found  a 
fire,  dried  her  clothes,  and  found  a  partridge's  gizzard, 
which  she  cooked  and  ate,  and  laid  down  and  slept,' 
remaining  about  twenty-four  hours. 

In  her  travels  she  came  across  several  other  camps, 
some  of  which  she  visited  several  times,  particularly 
where  she  found  names  cut  upon  trees,  and  another 
in  which  was  a  piece  of  white  paper.     Except  three 
or  four  nights  spent  in  these  camps,  she  slept  upon 
the  ground,  sometimes  making  a  bed  of  moss,  and 
endeavouring  to  shelter  herself  from  the  drenching 
rains  with  spruce  boughs.     For  the  first  two  weeks 
she  suffered  much  from  the  cold,  skivering  all  night, 
and  sleeping  but  little.     The  last  week  she  said  she 
had  got  "  toughened,"  and  did  not  shiver.    When  first 
lost  she  had  a  large  trout,  which  was  the  only  food 
she  ate,  except  choke-berries,  the  first  week,  and  part 
of  this  she  gave  to  her  dog,  which  remained  with  her 
for  a  week,  day  and  night.    The  cherries,  which  she 
ate  greedily,  swallowing  the  stones,  she  found  injured 
her  health  ;  and  for  the  last  two  weeks  she  lived  upon 
cranberries  and   wood  sorrel.     While  the  dog  re- 
rnained  with  her,  she  constantly  shared  her  food  with 
him,  but  said  she  was  glad  when  he  left  her,  as  it  was 
much  trouble  to  find  him  food. 

On  Thursday  of  last  week  she  followed  the  south 
towards  the  junction  witb  the  north  branch,  where  it 
appeared  she  had  been  before,  but  could  not  ford  the 
stream ;  and  in  the  afternoon  of  Fridav  opoaaed  th« 


APPENDIX 


\r  nrciatukA  fh* 


361 


^teps  toward,  home,  .he re^eiMTS'rlT'V'' 
a  mile  from  her  mnfl    »  M'Dale's,  about 

«ve  „ue3itrht7;:7;:;f,t''^''"^™'''"<' 

™g  the  day      HerTl  ?      ""^  **"  •"""=»  d"" 

whfn  she  wt  of  ^d  h  ^eTT^  ""  "'  ""'  ''"^• 
friend,  almost  as  one  rati '  /  ""'"'""^  ""^  •■'' 
feet  and  ankles  lervTrv  T  *'  "'^^''-  "«' 
'»ted;  but,  stran^to  Z^r   r'^""'"  ■"■"  ''^ 

wMe,  .-th  the  ie;:iz:^jzr '-'' 
^eiTt^s^::  ^f  r  """^  -  ^-t  the  ^, 

heartened,  elpecti  g  to TerlrTr'l'  *°  ''^"  *- 
by  not  di«coL„g'an7ne~  l"?  f°  '"''^ 
W  given  over  sefrC  LZ  d'     "  *'  P'°P'° 

"b  ".     un    tne  morning  of  Vrl^^,,  -i, 
strongly  inclined  to  give  ,  „  J    r  ",  ^  *^  ™ 
but  the  hope  of  seeinf  her  ' ofu      !■  ^T  ^"^  ^'''■^ 
make  one  more  effort  to        f  f  ^*"»"'ated  her  to 
sn^^ssful.     wlT^Zt  wa™'  *"  ^'°'^^ 
feverish  excitement  and  g;n    ,1  JI  "  "  ''*'^  "^ 
system  a,d  greatly  emafatd  '  w  tr^rew!  °' "■° 
bu  perfectly  sane  and  collected  ™"*' 

o»eday,Lposedar'r::str::^-r 


othi 


-a^e  that  *e.o„,  ,„—•/•-- 


G  Denies,     it  is  also  very 

a  VTA    Vt  A^^     . '       M  "^ 


on 


362 


APPENDIX. 


the  tracks  of  those  in  search  of  her,  sleeping  in  the 
camps,  and  endeavouring  to  follow  their  tracks  home, 
and  not  have  heard  any  of  their  numerous  trumpets, 
or  been  seen  by  any  of  the  hundreds  of  persons  who 
were  in  search  for  her. 

A  more  dismal  result  than  the  deprivations  endured 
by  Sarah  Campbell  is  the  frightful  existence  of  a  hu- 
man creature,  called,  in  the   American  papers,  the 
''  "Wild  Man  of  the  far  West."    From  time  to  time 
these  details  approach  the  terrific,  of  wild  men  who 
have  grown  up  from  chilhood  in  a  state  of  destitution 
in  *^e  interminable  forests,  especially  of  this  one, 
wh'    for  nearly  a  quarter  of  a  century,  has  occasion- 
ally been  seen,  and  then  either  forgotten,  or  supposed 
to  be  the  mere  creation  of  the  beholder's  brain.     But 
it  appears  that  he  was,  in  March,  1850,  encountered 
by  Mr.  Hamilton,  of  Greene  County,  Arkansas,  when 
hunting.     The  wild  man,  was,  likewise,  chasing  his 
prey.    A  herd  of  cattle  fled  past  Mr.  Hamilton  and 
his  party,  in  an  agony  of  ierror,  pursued  by  a  giant, 
bearing  a  dreadful  semblance  to  humanity.     His  face 
and  shoulders  were  enveloped  with  long  streaming 
hair,  his  body  was  entirely  hirsute,  his  progression 
was  by  great  jumps  of  twelve  or  thirteen  feet  at  a 
leap.    The  creature  turned  and  gazed  earnestly  on 
the  hunters,  and  fled  into  the  depths  of  the  forest, 
where  he  was  lost  to  view.     His  foot-prints  were 
thirteen  inches  long.    Mr.  Hamilton  published  the 
description  of  the  savage  man  in  the  Memphis  In- 
quirer.   Afterwards  several  planters  deposed  to  hav. 
ing,  at  times,  for  many  year*,  seen  this  apneAranoe= 


sleeping  in  the 
r  tracks  home, 
rous  trumpets, 
f  persons  who 

itions  endured 
tence  of  a  hu- 
n  papers,  the 

time  to  tune 
rvald  men  who 

of  destitution 
■  of  this  one, 
,  has  occasion- 
n,  or  supposed 
's  brain.  But 
),  encountered 
rknnsas,  when 
),  chasing  his 
Hamilton  and 
d  by  a  giant, 
ty.  His  face 
ng  streaming 
is  progression 
een  feet  at  a 

earnestly  on 
of  the  forest, 
t-prints  were 
)ublished  tb© 
Memphis  In- 
posed  to  hav. 
)  annearance^ 


APPENDIX 


363 


1811,  now  ZZtZT^"  "'  *°  '""'•9"'"'«  '» 
living,  even  massisted    „  2      m"   ^"■'°'''°"  "'"" 

«l*o„ghwe  doubt  .hatanyt^rcZ  ~"""'"'' 
progress  by  leaps  instead  nf-h  /       "^  '""'"^ 

taman  insttoot  tUn.^ff^P"''' """"''»■•'<'  th« 
the  Arkan:\  '  „"  S.  s^'  '"^  "'"  »""  °' 
o«ng.„„tang,„.;hrn,pl:tr'         °  '^"'"  °'  *« 


B — ^Page  83. 
""''^'  Volf  l<ou,er  m«,  .tani,.' 

''-buntb;t;:^e2":?;:pi;;t:i"i 

f"^,  or  fanciful  prospect  resid^n..  •      ?  *''^* 


U.— Page  123. 
**  •  .  .  as  civilization  au^ancea." 
Formerly  the  Rice  Lake  Plams  abound«^  i„  a... 
iru^ves,  bears,  racoons,  wolverines.  foxes.'and  w^d 


I 


«fc>V', 


864 


APPENDIX. 


animals  of  many  kinds.  Even  a  few  years  ago,  and 
bears  and  wolves  were  not  unfrequent  in  their  depre- 
dations; and  the  ravines  sheltered  herds  of  deer;  but 
now  the  sight  of  the  former  is  a  thing  of  rare  occur- 
tence,  and  the  deer  are  scarcely  to  be  seen.  So 
changed  is  this  lovely  wilderness,  that  green  pastures 
and  yellow  corn-fields  now  meet  the  eye  on  every 
Bide,  and  the  wild  beasts  retire  to  the  less  frequented 
depths  of  the  forest. 

From  the  undulating  surface,  the  alternations  of 
high  hills,  deep  valleys,  and  level  table-lands,  with 
the  wide  prospect  they  command,  the  Rice  Lake 
Plains  still  retain  their  picturesque  beauty,  which 
Cfmnot  be  marred  by  the  hand  of  the  settler  even  be  he 
ever  so  devoid  of  taste ;  and  many  of  those  who  have 
chosen  it  as  their  home  are  persons  uf  taste  and  re 
finement,  who  delight  m  adding  to  the  beauty  of  that 
which  Nature  had  left  so  fair. 


D.— Page  166,  note. 

"I  will  now,"  says  our  Indian  historian,  "narrate  a 
single  circumstance,  which  will  convey  a  correct  idea 
of  the  sufferings  to  which  Indians  were  often  exposed. 
To  obtain  furs  of  different  kinds  for  the  traders,  we 
had  to  travel  far  into  the  woods,  and  remain  there 
the  whole  winter.  Once  we  left  Rice  Lake  in  the 
fall,  and  ascended  the  river  in  canoes  as  far  as  Bel- 
mont  Lake.  There  were  five  families  about  to  hunt 
with  my  father  on  his  ground.    The  winter  began  to 


386 


«-><)  pork  ;  and  whTn  IL  ^         ""'  ""^  """'  «<«■' 

purpose  of  hu„.,-„^,  ,h,  ,„  J'"'"  '«'  ™e,..»,  for  .he 
cession,  to  such  a  d.pth  thai    ,  ■       ^' '"  '""• 

shooter  trap  any  thin/ll         •"'"  ""f'°'»iW'-  to 

^d.  and  .e  w  Ttz  T;::z,  :7,  °^"»-'- 

Here  we  were   fhp  c«         ,     PTOcurii^  any  more, 
wigwam  burl:;        hZh!    ';^  «-  ^-t  deep,  „„, 

"Our  mother  Th^  "'e'ght  of  the  snow. 

record  of  h^:  Itavn""  '^ '"^  "''  «■<""  "■» 
■»»»)  boiled  biroh  bark  o  "  "  "'"''  ""^""o"'  ^o. 
»e  might  not  sle  o„  2  "'"  'L'"  "^^'''^  «^' 
us  were  so  weak  IL  ,     u      '"''™"'  '^^J'  »™e  of 

»<=  other,  cojd'n'o .::'!"::  "Z  *'r"'^ 

.  orawl  fa  and  out  of  the  „i„„m      ^'  7'f  ""'^ 
ver  skins  and  old  mocassi n'r^od     Cfh      '"j 

day  none  of  the  men  could. oabro!j:  ""■* 

and  uncle.     On  the  tP„,l,  7  ^"^"^P""^' ''''*er 

food,  the  only  one^Ib   t\til'  ZJ'f  '!''^' 

^■•e  my  father,  my  »ra„d„!r  "  *«"»» 

self.    Oh  how  duf.  '  "-^ '''''='•.  "ud  >ny. 

ly^g  abo'utThe' 't  ;:2  'r  h^  "^"'"^  '»^-' 

looks  ..-the  children  wouTdctf^^  ""''  ^" 
%  poor  mother  CZZ.     {      '""''"''"S  t"  «»' ' 

kissed  us!     Wood  T.    {  ■""  "'""''''  ^  "he 

obUined,  on^^uVoflt  ;"  t"'''  """'  -"  "■» 

W„  «,.ul  _    Tr""  °f  *e  foebleness  of  our  lip,.,. 

■-.  ==.».■  «u,a  at  times  draw  near  the  Wand  i;" 


IMAGE  EVALUATION 
TEST  TARGET  (MT-3) 


1.0 


I.I 


■  30     "™^= 
'-    I. 


M 
= 

1.8 


1.25      1.4    11.6 

^ 

6"     

► 

Photographic 

Sciences 
Corporation 


23  WEST  MAIN  STREET 

WEBSTER,  N.Y.  14580 

(716)  872-4503 


I 


^    ^^s 


MA 


^ 


/^O 


V 


e. 


■«*s4»i:,i.  ,i„_^. 


ifr 


866 


APPENDIX. 


hearse  some  prayer  to  the  gods.     It  appeared  to  him 
that  there  was  no  way  of  escape,  the  men,  women 
and  children  dying;  some  of  them  were  speechless* 
the  wigwam  was  cold  and  dark,  and  covered  with 
snow ! 

«  On  the  eleventh  day,  jost  before  daylight,  my  fa- 
ther  fell  into  a  sleep  ;  he  soon  awoke,  and  said  to  me, 
♦My  son,  the  good  Spirit  is  about  to  bless  us  this 
night ;  in  my  dream  I  saw  a  person  coming  from  the 
east  walking  on  the  tops  of  the  trees ;  he  told  me  we 
should  obtain  two  beavers  about  nine  o'clock.     Put 
on  your  mocassins,  and  go  along  with  me  to  the  river, 
and  we  will  hunt  beaver,  perhaps  for  the  last  time.' 
I  saw  that  his  countenance  beamed  with  delight  and 
hope;  he  was  full  of  confidence.     I  put  on  my  mo- 
cassins  and  carried  my  sno^z-shoes,  staggering  along 
behind  him  about  half  a  mile.    Havmg  made  a  fire 
near  the  river,  where  there  was  an  air-hole  through 
which  the  beaver  had  come  up  duruig  the  night,  my 
father  tied  a  gun  to  a  stump,  with  the  muzzle  towards 
the  air-hole ;  he  also  tied  a  string  to  the  trigger,  and 
said,  'Should  you  see  the  beaver  rise  pull  the  string 
and  you  will  kUl  it.'    I  stood  by  the  fire,  with  the 
string  in  my  hand ;  I  soon  heard  the  noise  occasioned 
by  the  blow  of  his  tomahawk ;  he  had  killed  a  beaver 
and  brought  it  to  me.     As  he  laid  it  down,  he  said, 
'Then  the  Great  Spirit  will  not  let  us  die  here;' 
adding,  as  before,  ♦  if  you  see  the  beaver  rise,  pull  the 
string ;'  and  he  left  me.     I  soon  saw  the  nose  of  one, 
but  I  did  not  shoot.    Presently,  another  came  up ;' 
I  pulled  the  trigger,  and  ofi*  the  gun  went.    I  c~ould 


APPENDIX 


367 


not  see  for  some  moments  for  the  smoke.  My  fether 
ran  towards  me  with  the  two  beavers,  and  Z  them 
^de  by  s,de ;  then,  pointing  to  .he  ann  -"  Do  yout^ 

we  should  k,    these  two  about  this  time  in  the  mom- 
Now  Z"  r  '^  ""'  '■^''"'''«»  "'  Ki'^e  Lake. 

vv  e  arrived  just  m  tune  to  save  them 
r™_m  eath.  Since  whieh  we  have  visited  the  Zl 
spot  the  year  the  missionaries  came  among  us. 

My  father  knelt  down,  with  feelings  of  gratitude 

Go  y  toTodH  T'V\'^  "ear'/pe^Id" 
rl  •  r  f.  .:  ^^""^  ^^^^<^  «f  n^any  who  have 
perished  ui  this  way  far  up  in  the  wood^/'- J  .7 
Oeorffe  Copway,  written  by  himself,  p.  44.  "^^  "^ 


E— Page  192. 
"...  onjirat  deciding  that  it  ivas  a  canoe." 
The  Indians  say,  that  before  their  fathers  had  tools 

labour  of  three  generations.     It  was  hollowed  out  bv 
nieans  of  fire,  cautiously  applied,  or  by  stone  hattts; 

pass  d  t^^        ''^""'  P^^^^^^'  ^^^*  y--  -re 
passed  m  its  excavation.    When  completed,  it  was 

«d  as  a  great  achievement,  and  its  launching  on 

tir  f.""'  '"'^  ''  ""'''  ^^'  celebrated  by 
feasting  an^  dancing.  The  artisans  were  venerated 
as  great  patriots.  Possibly  the  birch.Wl,  .„...  .^^3 
of  older  date,  as  being  more  easily  constructed^  and 


I 


868 


APPENDIX. 


needing  not  the  assistance  of  the  axe  in  forming  it; 

but  it  was  too  frail  to  be  used  in  war,  or  in  long 

voyages,  being  liable  to  injuries. 
The  black  stone  wedges,  so  often  found  on  the 

borders  of  our  inland  -aters,  were  used  by  the 
Indians  in  skinning  the  deer  and  bear.  Their  arrow- 
heads were  of  white  or  black  flint,  rudely  chipped  into 
shape,  and  inserted  in  a  cleft  stick.  A  larger  sort 
were  used  for  killing  deer;  and  blunt  wooden  ones 
were  used  by  the  children,  for  shooting  birds  and 
small  game. 


M 


F.— Page  203. 

.   the  Christian  mind  r.evolts  with  horror.** 

There  is,  according  to  the  native  author,  George 
C!opway,  a  strong  feeling  in  the  Indians  for  conversion 
and  civilization,  and  a  concentration  of  all  the 
Christianized  tribes,  now  scat!  far  and  wide  along 
the  northern  banks  of  the  I&k.;  and  rivers,  into  one 
nation,  to  be  called  by  one  name,  and  united  in  one 
purpose— their  general  improvement.  To  this  end, 
one  of  the  most  influential  of  their  chiefs,  .Tohn  Jones, 
of  Dover  Sound,  oflfered  to  give  up  to  his  Indian 
brethren,  free  of  all  cost,  a  large  tract  of  unceded 
land,  that  they  might  be  gathered  together  as  one 
nation. 

In  the  council  held  at  Sangeeny,  where  were 
convened  Indian  chiefs  from  lakes  St.  Qare,  Simcoe, 
Huron,  Ontario,  and  Rice,  and  other  lakes,  it  was 


APPENDIX. 


%9 


proposed  to  devise  a  plan  by  which  the  tract  owned 

«ne    arge   settlement  at  Owen's  Sound     At  T 
meet  nff  fortv-eiffht  Ph.-^ft,  *3ouna.     At  this 

s  luny  eight  chiefs  were  assembled. 

P.rt8  of  Canada,  even  from  the  north  of  Geoikn 

.^';ehSe:"wr  -t  ""^'^' '"-  -'™  -^ 

fk  "  •  ^"  ""'«'«  '•^gret  this,  were  it  not  for 

the  ^roumstanees  that  require  you  he;e. 

deep  ^fSudrl"""  '''°"'"^'  '  ""^^  ""-"^'^  -«- 

We  studjed  deeply  and  ^ioudy,  i„  ord^to  ^  ' 
«t  a  true  la,owledge  of  the  pn^per  ooursTltT^ 
.u^  to  seonre  ,„  „3  and  our  deseeadanH  and  !Z 

t  *°'t'"".""'^  "'-  "■«  S^'"'-'  amount  orpear 
health   happ,„e.,  and  useinlne.,.    Tk.  interef^' 

heart  tr,l  ""'l  ?"*"^  "^^  ""^^  »<•  "^-^  'o  -X 
heart ,  for  them  I  have  often  passed  sleepless  nishts 

and  have  suffered  from  an  agitated  mind'  C! ntl 

tons,  I  am  proud  to  say,  are  my  brother,  many  of 

would  wilhngly  sacrifice  any  thin",     "    •■ 


n^. 


th€ 


i-'ivtfiers, 


/ou 


870 


APPENDIX. 


-.-» 


m 


\h 


HI 
1 


see  my  heart.     [Here  he  held  out  a  piece  of  wliite 
paper,  emblematical  of  a  pure  heart.] 

"Fellow-chiefs  and  warriors,  I  have  looked  over 
your  wigwams  throughout  Canada,  and  have  come  to 
the  conclusion  that  you  are  in  a  warm  place  [query, 
too  hot  to  hold  you].  The  whites  are  kindling  fires 
all  round  you  [t.  e.,  clearing  land]. 

"  One  purpose  for  which  you  have  been  called  to 
gether,  is  to  devise  some  plan  by  which  we  can  live 
together,  and  become  a  happy  people ;  so  that  our 
dying  fires  may  not  go  out,  [i.  e.,  our  people  become 
extinct,]  but  may  be  kindled,  and  bum  brightly  in  one 
place.  We  now  offer  you  any  portion  of  the  land  we 
own  in  this  region,  that  we  may  smoke  the  pipe  of 
peace,  and  live  and  die  together,  and  see  our  children 
play  and  be  reared  on  the  same  spot.  We  ask  no 
money  of  you.  We  love  you ;  and  because  we  love 
you,  and  feel  for  you,  we  propose  this. 

"My  chiefs,  brothers,  warriors.  This  morning 
[the  speaker  now  pointed  with  his  fingers  towards 
the  heavens,]  look  up  and  see  the  blue  sky :  there 
are  no  clouds ;  the  sun  is  bright  and  clear.  Our 
fathers  taught  us,  that  when  the  sky  was  without 
clouds,  the  Great  Spirit  was  smiling  upon  them.  May 
he  now  preside  over  us,  that  we  may  make  a  long, 
smooth,  and  straight  path  for  our  children.  It  is  true 
I  seldom  see  you  all,  but  this  morning  I  shake  hands 
with  you  all,  in  my  b-^art. 

**  Brothers,  this  is  all  I  have  to  say." 


piece  of  white 


APPENDIX. 


871 


G— Page  221. 
**  .   .  .  and  aimed  a  knife  at  hia  throat.*' 
The  period  at  which  these  events  are  said  to  have 
occurred  was  some  sixty  or  eighty  years  ago,  accord, 
ing  to  the  imperfect  chronology  of  my  informant.    At 
hrst,  I  hesitated  to  believe  that  such  horrible  deeds  as 
those  recorded  could  have  taken  place  almost  within 
the  memory  of  men.    My  Indian  narrator  replied- 
Indians,  no  Christians  in  those  days,  do  worse  than 
that  very  few  years  ago,-do  as  bad  now  in  far-west » 
The  conversion  of  the  Rice  Lake  Indians,  and  the 
gathering  them  together  in  villages,  took  place,  I 
think,  in  the  year  1825,  or  thereabouts.     The  con- 
version  was  effected  by  the  preaching  of  missionaries 
from  the  Wesleyan  Methodist  Church;   the  village 
was  under  the  patronage  of  Captain  Anderson,  whose 
descendants  inherit  much  land  on  the  north  shore  on 
and  about  Anderson's  Point,  the  renowned  site  of  the 
great  battle.    The  war-weapon  and  bones  of  the 
enemies,  the  Ojebwas,  are  still  to  be  found  in  this 
vicinity. 


Mm- 


H.— Page  238. 
«'  This  place  she  called  Spooke  Island." 
Spooke  Island.    A  singular  and  barren  island  in 
the  R,ce  Lake,  seventh  from  the  head  of  the  lake,  on 
which  the  Indians  used  formerlv  tn  hnrv  t\^;,  j.„j 
for  many  years  held  a«  a  sacred  spot,  and  only  ap 


ii 


872 


APPENDIX. 


p.oached  with  reverence.  Now  famous  for  two 
things,  picnics  and  poison  ivrj,  rhus  toxicodendron, — 
many  peisons  having  suffered  for  their  temerity  in 
landing  upon  it  and  making  it  the  scene  of  their  rural 
festivities. 


I.— Page  259. 
•  and  nothing  hvtjire,^ 

The  Indians  call  the  Rice  Lake,  in  allusion  to  the 
rapidity  with  which  the  fires  run  over  the  dry  herb- 
age, the  Lake  of  the  Burning  Plains.  Certainly, 
there  is  much  poetical  fitness  and  beauty  in  many  of 
the  Indian  names,  approximating  very  closely  to  the 
figurative  imagery  of  the  language  of  the  East ;  such 
is  "  Mad-wa-osh,"  the  music  of  the  winds. 


K.— Page  279. 

**  hvi  it  was  not  to  in  the  days  whereof  I  ham  spoken," 

From  George  Copway^a  Life. 

Converted  Indians  are  thus  described  in  the  "  Life" 
of  their  literary  countryman,  George  Copway : — 

Chippewas  of  the  River  Credit. — These  Indians  are 
the  remnant  of  a  tribe  which  formerly  possessed  a 
considerable  portion  of  the  Elome  and  Gore  Districts, 
of  which,  in  1818,  they  surrendered  the  greater  part 
for  an  annuity  of  532^.  10«.  reserving  only  certain 
snlall  tracts  at  the  River  Credit ;  and  at  Sixteen  and 

'TWfilx';  \/r;ix  C^^m.}.^  I'k-TT  rsf&s-a  '■V-  C-~i.  i~!1 --: —i..  3 


APPENDIX. 


878 


to  Christfanity.    Previous  to  the  year  1823  they  were 
wandering  pagans.     I„  that  year  Peter  Jones,  and 
John  his  brother,  the  sons  of  a  white  by  a  Mississaga 
woman,  having  been  converted  to  Christianity,  and 
admitted  as  members  of  the  Wesleyan  Methodist 
Oiurch  became  anxious  to  redeem  their  countrymen 
from  their  degraded  state  of  heathenism  and  spiritual 
destitution.    They  collected  a  considerable  number 
together,  and  by  rote  and  frequent  repetitions  taught 
the  first  principles  of  Christianity  to  such  as  were  too 
old  to  learn  to  read,  and  with  the  Lord's  Prayer,  the 
Creed,  and  Commandments,  were  thus  committed  to 
memory.    As  soon  as  the  tribes  were  converted,  they 
perceived  the  evils  attendant  on  their  former  state  of 
Ignorance  and  vagrancy.     They  began  to  work,  which 
they  had  never  done  before ;   they  recognized  the 
advantage  of  cultivating  the   soil;   they  gave   up 
drmking,  to  which  they  had  been  greatly  addicted 
and  became  sober,  consistent,  industrious  Christians.' 
J.  Sawyer,   P.  Jones,   Chiefs  ;   J.  Jones,   War- 
chief. 

The  Chippewas  of  Alnwick  were  converted  in 
1826-7.  They  were  wandering  pagans,  in  the  neigh, 
bourhood  of  Belleville,  Kingston,  and  Gannoyne 
commonly  known  as  Mississagas  of  the  Bay  of 
Quint6 ;  they  resided  on  Grape  Island,  in  the  Bay  of 
Qumte,  six  miles  from  Belleville.  They  resided 
eleven  years  on  the  island,  subsisting  by  hunting  and 
agriculture.    Their  houses  were  erected  partly  by 

their   own    Iftbr.nr   anA    K,-   fU^  \TT._i.  ■».-..  '' 

^  ^J  '■^''=  VTcsieyan  Missionary 

funds ;  these  consist  of  twenty-thre«  houses,  a  oommc 
32 


871 


JlPPENDII. 


dious  chapel  und  whool,  an  infant  school,  hospital, 

smithy,  shoemaker's  shop  and  joiner's.    There  are 

upwards  of  300  of  these  Indians. 

The  Chiefs  are— Sunday  ;  Simpson ;  G.  Corrego, 

Chief  and  missionary  interpreter. 

Rice  Lake  Chippewas.~\n  1818  the  greater  part 
of  the  Newcastle  and  Colbum  districts  were  surrenp 
dered,  for  an  annuity  of  940/.  These  Indians  have 
all  been  reclaimed  from  their  wandering  life,  and 
settled  in  their  present  locations,  within  the  last  ten 
or  twelve  years.*  The  settlement  is  on  the  north 
side  of  the  lake,  t*»elve  miles  from  Peterborough. 
Number  of  Indians,  114;  possessing  1,550  acres, 
subdivided  in  fifty-acre  lots. 

Chiefs — Pondash,  Copway,  Crow. 
Deer  were  plenty  a  few  years  ago,  but  now  only 
few  can  be  found.  The  Ojebwas  are  at  present  em- 
ployed  in  farming  instead  of  hunting;  many  of  them 
have  good  and  well-cultivated  farms;  they  not  only 
raise  grain  enough  for  their  own  use,  but  often  sell 
much  to  the  whites. 


L.— Page  289. 
"that  an  outtoard  manifestation  ofmrpriae.** 
A.  young  friend,  who  was  familiar  with  Indian  oharac 
ter,  from  frequent  intercourse  with  them  in  his  hunting 

•  I  think  G.  Copway  is  incorrect  as  to  the  date  of  the  settling 
of  the  village,  as  it  was  pointed  out  to  me  in  1832.  Note.— In 
the  year  1822  the  larger  part  of  the  Indian  village  on  Anderionli 
i'«afc  wu  built  and  cultivated. 


APPENDII. 


876 


«I«d.t.on.,  peaking  of  their  apparent  .b,ence  of 
cuncty,  told  „e  that,  with  a  view  to  test  t  h. 
wound  up  a  musi«U  .„„Sb„,,  „a  placed  it  on  . 
tobi,  m  a  roo™  where  aeveral  Indian  hnnter,  and 

watched  their  eonntenancc,  but  they  evinced  no  aort 

unmoved.    He  retired  to  an  adjoining  room,  where 
unseen,  he  could  notice  what  passed,  ^d  was'aS 

reives  free  from  hu  surveillance,  the  whole  mrt, 
muatored  round  the  mysterious  tdy  like  a  pared  ^? 

S  '^'T  *"'  "<"  "^^'^  *»  *»  «>''«PI«d  into 
Aowmg  suq,rfae.  This  perfect  command  over  Z 
muscle,  of  the  face  and  the  glance  of  the  eye  is  1  rf 
*•  ««^k»ble  traits  in  the  Indian  charwter.  n, 
2"«.»n  of  the  Indian  ««e,  if  I  may  uae  s^  p„l 
do..cal  a  term  consists  in  a  want  of  expression-likt 

fwel^         -.f  "^  '°'P  "«'■-•  •>--*  ''Wok  »o 
Object  la  visible.  • 


M.— Pege  338. 

«  bracelets  of  porcupine  gu:::.  cut  in  fine  piece,  and  strung 

*n  fanciful  pattern:* 

~"''.»ent,  ^anaaian  tnorii,  a  bodkin 
«f  bone,  or  a  sharp  naij.    These  outlines  are  then 


876 


APPENDIX. 


pierced  with  parallel  rows  of  holes,  into  which  the 
ends  of  the  porcupine  quills  are  insertdl,  forming  a 
rich  sort  of  embroidery  on  the  surface  of  the  bark. 

The  Indian  artists  have  about  as  much  notion  of 
perspective,  or  the  effects  of  life  and  shade,  as  the 
Chinese  or  our  own  early  painters ;  their  attempts  at 
delineating  animals,  or  birds,  are  flat,  sharp,  and  an- 
gular ;  and  their  groups  of  flowers  and  trees  not  more 
graceful  or  natural  than  those  on  a  china  plate  or  jar ; 
nevertheless,  the  eflfect  produced  is  rich  and  striking, 
from  the  vivid  colours  and  the  variety  of  dyes  they 
contrive  to  give  to  this  simple  material,  the  porcupine 
quills.  The  sinew  of  the  deer,  and  some  other 
animals,  furnish  th<  Indian  women  with  thread,  of 
any  degree  of  fineness  or  strength.  The  wants  of 
these  simple  folk  are  few,  and  those  easily  supplied 
by  the  adaptation  of  such  materials  as  they  can  com- 
mand with  ease,  in  their  savage  state. 


N Page  346. 

"  M  Mount  Ararat.*' 

Mount  Ararat,  the  highest  elevation  on  the  Rice 
Lake  Plains,  for  nearly  two  years  the  residence  of 
the  authoress  and  her  family. 

THX  XHD. 


I 


>  which  the 
i,  forming  a 
'  the  bark, 
sh  notion  of 
lade,  as  the 
attempts  at 
irp,  and  an- 
es  not  more 
)late  or  jar ; 
md  striking, 
f  dyes  they 
e  porcupine 
some  other 
thread,  of 
e  wants  of 
ily  supplied 
)y  can  oom- 


n  the  Rice 
esidf  nee  of 


